HERNANI  THE  JEW 


HERNANI  THE  JEW 


A  Story  of  Russian  Oppression 


BY  A.  N.  HOMER, 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  RICHEST  MERCHANT  IN  ROTTERDAM,"  ETC, 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK: 
RAND,    McNALLY   &   COMPANY. 

PUBLISHERS. 


Copyright,  1897,  by  Rand,  McNally  A  Co. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


BY  A.   N.  HOMER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Early  in  the  year  1861  General  Hourko  stood  within 
his  palace  at  Warsaw  watching  some  Jews  and  Poles 
driven  back  over  the  Praga  Bridge  by  a  handful  of  Cos 
sacks.  Titus  Popoloff,  his  secretary,  was  with  him,  and 
a  couple  of  aides-de-camp  were  discussing  the  political 
situation  in  the  ante-room. 

At  the  General's  feet  stretched  the  terraces  of  the  pal 
ace  gardens,  fringed  with  straggling  trees  already  de 
nuded  of  their  leaves;  beyond,  the  placid  volume  of  the 
river  Vistula;  and  a  little  to  the  right  the  bridge  upon 
which  the  lean  and  shaggily-mounted  Cossacks  were 
proving  their  zeal  and  devotion  to  the  Tsar. 

From  his  point  of  vantage,  and  with  the  aid  of  his 
field-glasses,  the  General  could  see  clearly  what  was  go 
ing  on. 

"Come  here,  Popoloff,  and  tell  me  if  you  can  make  out 
what  the  rascals  are  doing,"  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  as 
they  quitted  the  bridge  and  approached  to  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  the  palace  walls.  "Whom  have  they  got 
hold  of  amongst  others?  A  woman  for  certain,  but  no 
peasant,  I  should  say." 

"Eh,  your  Excellency;  she  seems  to  be  respectably 
dressed,  well-looking,  and  of  fine  presence.  Ah !  now  I 
can  see  plainly." 

"Of  course  she  is,  man.  A  Polish  lady,  and  handsome. 
This  won't  do,  Popoloff.  I  thought  my  instructions  were 


213S260 


0  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

clear.  We  must  not  quarrel  with  the  women.  Send 
someone  to  rescue  her,  and  bring  her  to  me." 

Popoloff  hurried  into  the  ante-room,  and  General 
Hourko  squared  his  shoulders  before  the  window  again, 
muttering  to  himself,  "If  I  only  knew  what  to  strike  at; 
if  there  were  armed  troops  in  the  field  against  me  instead 
of  unarmed  conspirators,  I  could  act  decisively.  Offi 
cialism  is  corrupt  because  the  officials  are  Poles.  The 
Church  is  corrupt  because  it  is  not  Orthodox,  and  the 
Rabbis  are  not  slow  to  grasp  the  hand  it  stretches  out  to 
them.  Fancy  Roman  Catholics  and  Jews  talking  of  ex 
changing  presents!  Strong  measures  should  be  taken.  I 
am  confident.  The  place  should  be  declared  in  a  state  of 
siege,  then  powder  and  shot  poured  in,  and  all  would  be 
quiet.  But  what  would  they  say  in  Petersburg?  Ah! 
they  send  me  here  and  handcuff  me.  Alexeieff!" 

"Yes,  your  Excellency." 

"Does  the  crowd  in  the  square  gather?" 

"It  does.  But  the  people  are  collected  in  groups,  and 
they  talk  and  gesticulate  wildly." 

"Let  them.  How  many  of  them  are  there,  do  you 
think?" 

"It  is  difficult  to  say,  sir." 

"Three  or  four  thousand  people?" 

"Perhaps;  but  then  there  are  the  approaches  which 
are  crammed.  All  Warsaw  is  on  foot." 

"What  do  they  want,  eh?" 

The  aide-de-camp  smiled  sarcastically. 

"The  freedom  of  Poland,  sir;  nothing  less  will  sat 
isfy  them." 

"An  insane  idea.  And  for  a  rabble  like  this  to  talk  of 
petitioning  his  Majesty  for  a  constitution.  Ah!  here  is 
Popoloff." 

The  sudden  opening  of  the  door  of  the  apartment  re 
vealed  Popoloff's  spare  bent  form  on  the  one  hand,  an 
aide-de-camp  on  the  other;  between  them,  a  young,  dig 
nified,  and  at  once  remarkable  woman.  She  was  clad  in 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  7 

deep  mourning,  and  this  sable  costume  heightened  the 
distressed  pallor  of  her  face,  the  fine  features  of  which 
were  lighted  by  clear,  fearless  eyes.  Even  Hourko,  who 
considered  himself  a  judge  of  feminine  beauty,  scarcely 
concealed  his  surprise  and  admiration. 

"Madam,  I  trust  you  have  suffered  no  personal  incon 
venience,"  he  remarked,  in  a  firm  voice  which  drowned 
Popoloff's  whispered  "Madam,  this  is  his  Excellency  the 
Governor  of  the  Kingdom." 

"I  have  been  put  to  considerable  inconvenience  and 
annoyance,  sir,  though  no  bodily  harm  has  been  done 
me,"  was  the  calm  answer,  although  evidently  her  pulse 
was  beating  wildly. 

"I  sincerely  regret  to  hear  it;  but  soldiers,  like  other 
mortals,  are  apt  to  exceed  their  instructions,  to  become 
over-zealous,  madam."  General  Hourko's  voice  had 
changed  slightly;  it  was  colder  and  more  dignified.  Was 
he  not  the  representative  of  his  sovereign?  What  reason 
was  there  for  him  to  be  conciliatory — above  all  to  a  per 
son  who,  his  keen  Russian  eyes  told  him,  was  not  a  Pole 
after  all,  but  one  of  a  people  it  had  been  part  of  his  train 
ing  and  education  to  look  down  upon,  even  to  despise? 
He  had  been  under  the  roof  and  in  the  camp,  with  those 
who  had  followed  the  world's  teaching,  and  had  turned 
their  hands  against  the  whole  Hebrew  race.  Yet  this 
woman  was  certainly  not  purely  Jewish.  In  the  distant 
past,  Polish  blood  had  intermingled  and  left  signs  which 
to  him  were  as  plain  as  the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  But 
then,  too,  she  was  refined,  and  elegantly  though  simply 
dressed.  It  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  a  Jewess 
could  possess  any  of  these  perfections  of  manner  or  style. 
However,  he  was  prepared  to  accept  two  incontrovertible 
facts — that  a  female,  and  a  beautiful  one,  was  before  him ; 
and  accordingly  he  added  with  a  smile,  "War  is  never 
waged  upon  women ;  but  in  such  disturbed  times  as  these, 
and  for  your  own  personal  safety,  I  would  remind  you 
that  it  is  not  well  for  ladies  to  go  into  outlying  districts 


8  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

alone  and  on  foot.  The  Praga  quarter  is,  I  understand, 
inhabited  by  the  dregs  of  the  population,  who — 

"Are  Jews,  your  Excellency,  like  myself,"  interrupted 
the  lady,  crimsoning,  for,  having  watched  Hourko's  face 
attentively,  she  had  read  his  thoughts,  and  blushed  with 
what  she  deemed  righteous  anger.  "Amongst  my  own 
people  I  am  safe.  Why  should  they  hurt  me?  I  only  try 
to  help  them  in  their  sickness  and  misery." 

The  General  was  slightly  irritated,  but  he  was  insensi 
bly  becoming  more  interested.  If  it  had  not  been  so — 
that  is  to  say,  if  he  had  not  found  her  beautiful — he  would 
have  dismissed  her  with  a  few  suitable  words,  but  it 
pleased  him  to  allow  himself  to  be  attracted  by  beauty 
when  he  had  the  time  to  spare.  The  acknowledged  ad 
miration  of  it  was  one  of  his  most  amiable  weaknesses.  It 
was  true  that  Warsaw  was  in  a  most  disturbed  state,  that 
the  social  and  political  condition  of  affairs  were  rotten 
to  the  core,  that  the  educated  classes  were  believed  to 
be  hostile  to  the  government  he  represented,  almost  to  a 
man;  there  was  nothing  in  all  that  to  prevent  him  from 
feeling  Horribly  bored  at  times.  It  was  well  to  lighten 
the  heavy  burden  of  the  official  day  when  a  good  oppor 
tunity  presented  itself,  and  it  was  part  of  his  duty  to 
pacify  and  please  people. 

"To  offer  a  helping  hand,  madam,  to  people  in  dis 
tress  of  any  kind,  is  noble,  and  the  reward  will  come  in 
affection  and  respect.  Such  amiable  actions  would  meet 
with  the  approval  of  my  august  master,  who  can  only  be 
grieved  when  there  is  sickness,  poverty,  or  any  kind  of 
unhappiness  amongst  his  people.  His  sentiments  on 
these  points  should  be  well  known  to  all.  May  I  ask  how 
you  came  to  be  annoyed  in  the  way  you  seem  to  have 
been,  because  my  instructions  are  peremptory :  no  peace 
able  person  is  to  be  interfered  with?" 

Popoloff  pricked  up  his  large  ears  at  this  juncture,  and, 
adjusting  his  spectacles,  remarked  gravely— 

"I  am  told  that  this  lady  was  discovered  in  the  house 


HEKNANI  THE  JEW.  9 

of  some  people  who  have  given  much  trouble,  your  Ex 
cellency.  Some  rifles,  a  small  package  of  saddlery,  pro 
visions,  and  a  banner  displaying  the  Polish  eagle,  were 
found  and  seized;  and  money — I  won't  say  a  large  sum 
— had  been  supplied  to  them  by  her." 

"Ah!  is  that  so?  Such  a  statement  is  serious;  yet, 
pray,  don't  distress  yourself,  madam.  Thank  you  Pop- 
oloff — this  will  be  explained."  And,  bestowing  upon  him 
a  look  which  that  individual  quite  understood,  next  mo 
ment  General  Hourko  found  himself  alone  with  this 
wroman  who  had  begun  to  interest  him  so  much.  His 
manner  instantly  became  more  affable.  He  planted  his 
back  to  the  huge  stove  and,  with  his  hands  crossed  be 
hind  him,  inquired  gently— 

"May  I  first  know  to  whom  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
speaking?  I  don't  wish  you  to  think  me  a  kind  of  ogre, 
or  to  be  the  least  bit  afraid  of  me.  I  am  here  to  see  that 
justice  is  done  to  everyone." 

Instead  of  allaying  her  fears,  the  mildness  of  this  speech 
excited  them.  Why  did  he  wish  to  talk  to  her — to  ques 
tion  her  in  this  way  himself?  Already  she  had  refused  to 
give  her  name,  hoping  to  escape  the  necessity.  Now  she 
must  do  so,  and  she  was  alone  in  this  huge  palace  with  a 
man  whose  po\ver  was  absolute,  who  could  dispatch  her 
to  Siberia  as  easily  as  to  her  own  home;  and  who,  more 
over,  in  addition  to  his  reputation  for  harshness,  some 
alleged  brutality,  was  believed  to  be  morally  weak  and 
unscrupulous.  How  far  her  information  was  correct  she 
did  not  know,  but  the  situation  she  found  herself  in  was 
one  which  began  to  try  her  nerves  and  arouse  her  fears. 
Not  naturally  timid,  she  already  felt  painfully  so.  Her 
eyes  swept  the  apartment  as  though  seeking  some  means 
of  escape,  and  as  though  to  say,  "Your  desire  is  hope 
less."  There  were  the  walls,  lofty,  paneled,  elegant,  No 
hope  in  that  direction.  There,  too,  was  the  figure  of 
llourko,  strong,  apparently  inexorable  in  his  tightly  fit 
ting  General's  uniform,  which  rendered  his  shoulders 


10  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

squarer,  his  neck  stiffer,  his  heavy,  resolute  features  and 
thick  iron-gray  mustache  most  awe-inspiring.  At  length, 
feeling  that  she  must  reply  to  this  demand  made  upon 
her,  she  allowed  one  word  to  escape  her. 

"Hernani." 

"Your  name  is  Hernani,  madam?" 

"Yes." 

The  General  reflected.  The  name  struck  some  note — 
sounded,  in  fact,  perfectly  familiar  to  him.  Ah!  he  re 
membered. 

"Are  you  related  to  a  banker  in  this  town  of  that 
name?" 

"I  am  his  wife." 

"Indeed!  What  a  pity  you  did  not  tell  me  sooner. 
Your  husband  is  well  known,  above  suspicion,  and  I 
understand  is  much  respected."  Then  he  added  laugh 
ingly,  "You  are  not  likely  to  have  been  guilty  of  aiding 
these  refractory  people."  Receiving  no  reply,  he  thought, 
"So  this  is  Sara  Hernani,  wife  of  Kasimir  Hernani,  the 
great  Jew  banker;  Sara  Hernani,  as  famous  for  her 
beauty  as  he  is  for  his  wealth.  What  a  fortunate  scoun 
drel,  a  millionaire  and  with  such  a  wife!"  Aloud  he 
added,  "You  will  be  good  enough  to  explain  to  him, 
please,  how  I  regret  the  inconvenience  you  have  been 
put  to,  but  the  Government  has  a  difficult  task  before 
it — to  deal  firmly  with  those  who  would  defy  it,  without 
wounding  the  tender  susceptibilities  of  those  who  respect 
it,  and  are  honest  in  their  support  of  law  and  order." 

Pondering  over  his  former  remark  about  aiding  the 
disaffected,  and  knowing  her  husband  to  belong  to  the 
White  party,*  Sara  was  disturbed,  and,  barely  hearing 
him,  vaguely  answered — 

"Indeed,  it  must  be  a  hard  task" — not  without  a  sense 
of  hypocrisy  mingled  with  fervent  prayer  that  the  inter 
view  might  terminate  speedily. 

General  Hourko  saw  that  she  longed  to  escape  from  his 

*Moderate  party. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  II 

clutches;  but  all  the  same,  before  she  left  him,  he  was 
keenly  desirous  of  making  a  better  impression;  of  letting 
her  know  something  of  what  he  felt,  and  that  he  would 
like  to  see  her  again,  if  only  to  feast  his  eyes  on  a  face 
which  charmed  him  so.  He  made  a  last  effort  to  pro 
long  the  conversation. 

"This  disturbance  to-day  is  to  be  lamented.  It  can 
IDC  productive  of  no  good.  Why  won't  people  be  con 
tented?" 

"With  what,  sir?"  inquired  Sara,  daringly,  though  with 
the  sensation  that  she  had  impressed  him  too  well  to 
offend  him. 

"With  the  good  things  his  Majesty,  my  Imperial  mas 
ter,  lavishes  on  them,  and  the  recollection  of  the  tender 
solicitude  they  know  him  to  take  in  their  welfare.  Then, 
too,  so  much  more  trust  might  be  reposed  in  them  would 
they  but  prove  themselves  worthy." 

"I  fear  I  am  incapable  of  discussing  such  great  ques 
tions,"  replied  Sara,  in  despair  at  still  being  detained. 

"Then  believe  what  I  tell  you,"  replied  Hourko,  a  little 
pompously;  and,  further  disconcerted  at  the  small 
amount  of  headway  he  was  making,  he  added,  "If  I  can 
be  of  use  to  you  in  any  way,  don't  fail  to  apply  to  me, 
and  remember,  too,"  he  blundered,  "that  I  think  your 
husband  most  fortunate." 

"Why?"  demanded  Sara,  not  seeing  the  drift  of  his 
remark  until  she  had  spoken. 

"To  be  the  happy  possessor  of  so  much  beauty,"  was 
Hourko's  prompt  answer,  accompanied  by  a  look  of 
admiration  which  could  not  escape  her  understanding. 

Instantly  the  defenselessness  of  her  position  was  before 
her  in  full  force.  She  experienced  the  sensation  of  being 
wounded,  insulted,  of  having  an  attack  made  upon  her— 
when,  considering  that  she  was  virtually  a  prisoner,  such 
an  attack  was  almost  brutal.  How  dare  he  pay  her 
compliments,  when,  having  dragged  her  before  him,  he 
dismissed  his  attendants  and  interrogated  her  as  he 


T2  HERXANI  THE  JEW. 

chose!  But  then,  too,  she  ought  to  have  remembered 
that  this  was  the  treatment  she  should  have  expected  from 
him.  Was  he  not  the  Governor  of  the  Kingdom  of  Po 
land,  and  was  she  not — worst  thing  of  all — a  Jewess? 
With  the  warm  blood  dyeing  her  cheeks  and  surging 
through  her,  leaving  her  hot  and  cold  in  turn,  she  rose  to 
her  feet,  determined  to  regain  her  liberty  at  once. 

"I  have  already  been  away  from  home  a  long  while, 
your  Excellency,  and  my  good  looks  which  you  have  so 
graciously  admired  will  be  missed  there.  May  I  return, 
please?" 

General  Hourko  saw  his  mistake  and  made  an  attempt 
— the  best  he  was  capable  of — to  repair  it.  Reassuming 
his  polite  and  serious  manner,  he  said — 

"Oh,  I  forgot.  Of  course.  A  carriage  must  be  ordered. 
You  shall  be  driven  where  you  wish." 

"Thank  you;  I  know  every  step  of  the  way,  and  I  prefer 
to  walk." 

"But  it  is  not  safe.  The  crowd  blocks  the  square. 
Listen  to  the  shouts  and  uproar." 

"Your  Excellency,  you  are  very  kind,  but  the  crowd 
will  do  me  no  harm,  I  assure  you."  Advancing  toward 
the  door,  the  General  could  do  no  less  than  open  it,  and 
Sara  Hernani  passed  down  the  grand  staircase  and  so  out 
of  the  palace,  Popolofr,  who  had  been  on  the  lookout, 
escorting  her  to  the  entrance. 

Left  to  himself,  the  General  passed  to  and  fro  before 
the  stove,  in  which  wood  and  coal  crackled  merrily.  The 
sensation  of  being  lonely  as  well  as  irritated  stole  over 
him.  Sniffing  the  atmosphere,  in  which  it  seemed  Sara 
had  left  a  trace  of  some  fragrant  scent  she  affected,  his 
eye  fell  upon  the  chair  in  which  she  had  sat,  and  memory 
placed  her  there  again,  in  all  the  rare  perfection  of  her 
form  and  face.  On  the  long  pile  of  the  Turkey  rug  there 
even  appeared  to  be  the  faint  impression  of  her  foot, 
which  he  now  remembered  had  peeped  from  beneath  her 
skirt  sufficiently  for  him  to  pronounce  it  small  and  shape- 


HERNAN1  THE  JEW.  13 

X 

ly.  He  regarded  that  imaginary  mark  fixedly  for  an  in 
stant,  and  then  with  a  savage  kick  sent  the  chair  spin 
ning  under  the  table,  and,  stamping  upon  the  rug,  ex 
claimed — 

"What  an  old  fool  I  am,  and  worse  than  ever — worse 
than  ever!" 

Ringing  a  hand-bell  with  a  crash,  there  appeared  upon 
the  scene  Tit  Prokofievitch  Popoloff,  or,  as  the  English 
tongue  would  render  it,  Titus  Prokofievitch  Popoloff, 
with  his  habitual  stoop  which  suggested  weak  lungs,  and 
added  to  his  ill-shapen  legs,  increased  his  aspect  of  un- 
gainliness ;  with  his  lean,  irregular  features,  wrinkled  and 
yellow  skin,  pale,  almost  colorless  eyes,  and  strange 
stealthiness  of  movement — Titus  Popoloff,  in  fact,  with 
nothing  to  recommend  him  so  far  as  one  could  judge. 
Yet  consider  what  he  had  done.  In  a  few  years  he  had 
succeeded  in  raising  himself  from  the  position  of  a  small 
tchinovnik*  to  that  of  secretary — trusted  adviser  really — 
to  Ivan  Nicholaevitch  Hourko,  who,  it  may  be  added  for 
the  benefit  of  those  who  do  not  remember,  had  played  an 
important  part  in  the  rebellion  of  '30,  had  been  conspic 
uous  for  his  bravery  at  the  battle  of  the  Alma,  and,  in 
addition  to  being  considered  one  of  the  most  resolute  and 
sagacious  officers  in  the  Russian  service,  was  known  to 
have  gained  the  approval  and  confidence  of  his  sovereign. 
All  these  wonders  Titus  Popoloff  had  worked,  or,  rather, 
the  whim  of  a  woman  he  had  contrived  to  please  had 
enabled  him  to  work  them. 

Olga  Pavlovna  Hourko,  the  General's  wife,  had  dis 
covered  him  one  day  quite  by  chance,  ink  and  dirt  be 
grimed,  dishevelled,  and  meanly  clad,  sitting  in  his  poky 
office  somewhere  in  the  Ukraine,  where  she  had  large 
estates.  She  had  been  insanely  jealous  of  the  General  at 
the  time,  and  Titus,  in  his  post  of  tchinovnik  in  the  serv 
ice  of  the  Provincial  Crown  Domain  Office,  had  proved 


*Civil  servant. 


14  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

himself  discreet,  in  fact  invaluable.  The  General,  being 
easy-going,  a  warrior,  and  not  a  cautious  diplomatist,  had 
not  troubled  himself  to  make  any  inquiries  about  Popo- 
loff,  but,  accepting  his  wife's  recommendation  without  a 
murmur,  had  placed  this  deserving  person's  feet  upon  the 
ladder  of  ease  and  security,  after  which  Titus  had  taken 
care  to  mount  upward. 

Conscious  that  he  was  no  longer  alone,  but  without 
taking  further  notice  of  the  fact,  the  General  assumed  his 
favorite  position  near  the  stove,  and  some  minutes 
elapsed,  during  which  time  Popoloff  silently  busied  him 
self  with  polishing  his  spectacles  with  a  large  colored  silk 
handkerchief,  and  holding  them  up  to  the  light.  He  had 
just  placed  them  on  his  nose,  when  the  General  said  sud 
denly — 

"Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  Hernani  the  banker, 
here?" 

"What  do  you  want  to  know,  your  Excellency?" 

"Everything.  His  temperament.  How  and  with  whom 
he  lives.  Exact  nature  of  home  ties — yes,  mark  that — 
and  political  bias.  Now  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  this  in 
formation  soon,  for  he  may  be  dangerous  enough  to  be 
worth  the  trouble  of  watching.  Do  you  know  who  that 
woman  was?" 

"Who  has  just  left,  sir,  and  who  is  so  beautiful?''  he 
added  slyly. 

"Ah!  those  old  eyes  of  yours  have  discovered  that,  and 
what  else?" 

"That  she  is  Kasimir  Hernani's  wife." 

"And  how  did  you  learn  that?" 

"I  recognized  her  at  the  first  glance,  your  Excellency. 
She  refused  to  give  her  name,  but  I  make  it  my  business 
to  know." 

"And  you  do  your  business  well.  Ah!  Popoloff,  good 
looks  don't  mean  good  brains." 

"Not  always,  sir." 

"Well,  be  thankful  you  have  the  brains  and  I  can  pay 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  15 

you  for  them.  One  word  about  Hernani:  set  your  wits 
to  \vork  at  once  and  let  me  hear  the  result  quickly.  Why, 
what  is  this — the  square  almost  clear,  the  mob  dispersed? 
Look,  Popoloff!  Now  that  is  good — that  is  good;  the 
noise  they  made  was  a  frightful  nuisance."  And  crossing 
over  to  a  writing-table,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  the  General 
became  absorbed  in  scanning  and  sorting  some  papers, 
occasionally  pausing  to  make  corrections  and  annota 
tions.  A  little  later  Popoloff  noiselessly  withdrew,  and 
when  the  neutral  tints  of  the  winter  evening  had  deepened 
into  the  blackness  of  night,  when  the  stars  were  ablaze 
overhead,  he  entered  another  apartment  in  the  huge  pal 
ace,  an  apartment  small  in  size,  octagonal  in  shape,  pan 
eled  with  rare  wood,  cozy  with  soft  mats  and  replete  with 
every  luxury  which  a  fastidious,  selfish,  and  wealthy 
woman  could  crowd  into  her  boudoir.  In  the  midst  of 
all  this  finery  a  little  lady  with  sharp,  mean  features,  faded 
yellow  hair,  and  tired-looking  eyes,  which  struck  one  as 
being  too  large  for  her  small,  oval  face,  was  reclining  half 
buried  in  cushions.  The  atmosphere  was  that  of  a  hot 
house,  and  even  Popoloff,  through  whom  any  keen  wind 
blew,  found  himself  perspiring;  while  she,  with  a  little 
dog  curled  on  her  knees,  and  some  tea  at  hand,  com 
plained  querously  of  the  cold,  asked  twice  over  if  it  was 
freezing,  and  only  seemed  to  forget  about  her  chilliness 
when  Popoloff  got  deep  into  the  events  of  the  day.  For 
this  was  a  part  of  his  duty — to  recount  to  Madame 
Hourko  all  that  had  transpired,  all  that  her  husband  had 
done  and  deemed  secret  proceedings,  if  need  be.  But 
then  Popoloff  was  always  so  obliging,  and  might  not 
have  retained  his  position  if  he  had  not  been  large-minded 
enough  to  consent  to  a  little  harmless  gossip  now  and 
again.  And  this  was  the  kind  of  woman  the  General  had 
chosen  for  a  wife;  physically  weak,  often  ailing,  by  no 
means  beautiful,  but  doting  on  him  sufficiently  to  be  jeal 
ous  of  a  shadow  if  it  bore  any  resemblance  to  a  female. 
How  strangely  people  marry! 


l6  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Once  outside  the  great  gloomy  walls  of  the  palace,  Sara 
found  herself  in  the  square,  the  space  of  which  was  now 
but  thinly  sprinkled  with  the  moving  forms  of  people 
looming  large  in  the  blue  mist  of  the  gathering  darkness. 
Torches  were  being  kindled  and  brandished,  and  the 
smoke  and  blaze  of  them  lent  a  savage  aspect  to  the  scene, 
begirt,  as  it  was,  by  towering  gables  and  turrets.  Snow 
was  beginning  to  fall  in  large  flakes,  and  as  they  struck 
upon  her  face,  half  blinding  her,  the  shrieks  of  women's 
voices,  the  angry  tones  of  men,  the  sharp  cracks  of  Cos 
sack  nagaikas*  sounding  clear  above  the  sullen  roar  of 
the  dispersing  mob,  assailed  her  ears  and  made  her  shrink 
and  cower  under  the  dark  walls.  She  had  but  one  wish 
— to  reach  her  home  unmolested.  But  her  nerves  were 
shaken,  and  her  dress,  though  black,  was  costly  enough  to 
betray  her.  Ladies  were  constantly  being  accosted  and 
insulted,  and,  in  spite  of  the  brave  words  she  had  spoken 
to  Hourko,  her  mind  was  full  of  such  stories. 

In  the  Faubourg  Cracow  some  Cossacks  opposed  the 
further  advance  of  a  drunken  and  infuriated  droshky 
driver,  and  one  of  them  lashed  the  face  of  a  poor  beggar 
who  was  slinking  along  in  half-clad  wretchedness.  There 
was  a  piercing  shriek,  a  volley  of  oaths,  and,  with  the 
smell  of  unwashed  clothes  and  vodka  in  her  nostrils,  Sara 
fled  into  the  quiet  shelter  of  the  Jardin  de  Saxe,  and,  still 
breathless,  arrived  at  the  entance  of  a  mansion  which 
formed  the  whole  side  of  a  square,  scarce  two  hundred 
yards  from  the  Place  de  Saxe.  This  was  her  home.  This 
was  the  palace  of  the  famous  Jew  banker,  Kasimir  Her- 
nani,  and  within  its  walls  loans  were  advanced  to  Euro- 

*Whips. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  17 

pean  monarchs  and  nobles,  vast  business  obligations  were 
c  ntered  into,  and  millions  of  rubles  sped  out  over  the 
world,  guided  by  the  wisdom  and  foresight  of  this  finan 
cial  genius.  Here  in  this  splendid  home  Sara  worshiped, 
and  had  been  worshiped,  ever  since  she  had  come  to  it 
out  of  poverty  and  want,  hardships  innumerable,  the 
alarming  existence  the  daughter  of  a  poor  and  persecuted 
man  must  lead. 

Hernani  doted  upon  her.  She  was  the  apple  of  his 
eye,  the  breath  of  his  nostrils.  Here  he  had  delighted  to 
see  her,  clad  in  costly  clothes,  to  satisfy  her  slightest 
whim,  to  greet  her  with  his  fondest  word,  his  warmest 
smile,  to  lavish  upon  her  the  luxuries  and  refinements, 
the  delights  which  his  affection  and  wealth  could  supply. 
Here,  amidst  a  subdued  light,  with  the  perfume  of  flow 
ers,  the  gentle  lullaby  of  falling  water  and  the  soothing 
cadence  of  singing  birds,  no  matter  how  the  world  shook 
and  was  troubled,  there  was  quiet  and  peace  for  this  idol 
he  had  set  up. 

And  the  moment  she  entered  he  hastened  to  join  her, 
to  reassure  himself  that  she  was  safe;  for  he  had  been 
anxious,  disturbed  beyond  measure  by  her  long  absence; 
the  report  that  the  people  were  astir  having  reached  him. 
Her  wraps  were  upon  her  still  when  she  heard  his  step 
and  voice. 

"Ah!  you  are  safe;  but  what  has  delayed  you?  You 
have  given  me  such  a  fright." 

"I  couldn't  return  sooner.  The  streets  were  blocked," 
she  answered,  endeavoring  to  speak  as  though  nothing 
had  happened. 

"Blocked — and  you  in  them?  But  why  did  you  not 
drive  out  to-day?  I  told  you — I  warned  you.  You  must 
never  do  this  again,  dearie.  You  must  promise  me.  I 
knew  something  had  happened.  But  what  is  the  matter? 
Ah!  something  else  has  occurred ;  tell  me." 

His  kind  words  had  affected  her.  She  could  still  see 
the  rough  Cossacks  and  hear  their  strange  voices  and 

2 


l8  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

coarse  oaths.  The  people  she  had  been  herded  with,  poor 
and  dejected,  were  about  her  again,  and  then  the  picture 
of  Hourko,  his  words  and  looks.  Overwrought,  she  leant 
upon  his  shoulder  and  sobbed. 

"Come — I  insist,"  he  went  on,  her  tears  salt  upon  his 
lips.  "Now,  pull  yourself  together  and  tell  me." 

Struggling  to  regain  her  composure,  she  said  at  length, 
"You  know  I  went  to  the  Bieloi's  over  in  Praga?" 

"Yes— well?" 

"They  were  making  a  search." 

"Who — the  Cossacks?"  he  demanded  fiercely. 

"Yes." 

"While  you  were  there?" 

"Yes." 

"And  you — come — I  must  know.  What  is  there  to 
hide  from  me?" 

"Nothing,  of  course.  Well,  they  found  arms  and 
things.  Isaach  Bieloi  was  wrong." 

"To  let  them  find  them,  the  ass!" 

"Yes;  and  I  was  ordered  out  of  the  house  like  the  rest." 

"You — ordered  out  of  a  hovel  where  you  went  to  aid 
starving  people!  Curse  them! — the  dogs!  Is  there  no 
freedom  in  the  land?  And  what  else?" 

"Oh,  nothing!  Kiss  me  and  do  not  worry  me  into 
going  over  it  all  again.  It  will  only  excite  you  and  do 
no  good,  and  I  want  to  forget.  Here  I  am,  safe  and 
sound;  we  shall  be  quiet  together  for  the  rest  of  the 
evening  and  I  will  sing  to  you,  so  you  must  do  as  I  tell 
you."  And  she  clung  to  him  so  that  his  face  was  hidden 
in  her  auburn  hair. 

"But  I  won't  be  put  off  in  this  way." 

"Not  if  I  wish  it?" 

"No.  How  did  you  get  out  of  the  grip  of  the  brutes, 
and  what  did  they  say?" 

She  stood  before  him,  her  head  tilted  to  one  side,  the 
sweetest  and  most  provoking  little  smile  upon  her  lips. 

"Well,  you  see,"  she  said  slowly,  "I  never  got  into  it, 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  IQ 

and  they  only — well,  they  only — smelt.  Oh!"  she  added, 
mimicking  a  shudder,  "bad  tobacco,  vodka  and  filth 
equals  asafcetida.  Dearie,  what  a  relief  it  is  to  find  one's 
self  back,  to  feel  a  little  tired,  to  sit  down  on  something 
soft,  to  be  cold,  and  for  the  dry  heat  to- put  warmth  and 
life  into  one.  Those  poor  Bieloi's  hadn't  a  crust — not  a 
kopec  left.  Besides  them,  I  saw  six  other  families  worse 
off  if  possible — and  to  think  of  them  all,  this  bitter  night! 
How  will  they  get  through  the  winter?  Oh!  if  I  could 
only  build  a  great  house  where  they  could  all  find  food 
and  warmth  and  rest.  They  are  no  longer  fit  to  struggle. 
It  is  terrible." 

"You  have  done  what  you  can,"  Hernani  answered 
gravely,  "and  God,  blessed  be  He,  will  do  the  rest." 

"But  the  children " 

"Ah!  the  children,"  interrupted  Hernani  in  a  hollow 
voice,  and  his  eyes  sought  hers  with  a  hungry  look  in 
them,  then  softened  to  their  usual  expression  as  he  added, 
"Well,  the  children  will  be  taken  care  of,  and,  after  all, 
they  can't  suffer  as  acutely.  But  now  I  must  go  to  my 
work;  when  I  return  you  will  be  rested  and  less  gloomy. 
You  see,  no  one  is  free  from  trouble."  And  without  say 
ing  more  he  left  her,  still  with  a  trace  of  the  sad  look  in 
his  face,  and  she  watched  him  away  with  pain  in  her  own. 

Her  allusion  to  children — a  natural  enough  one — had 
stirred  up  the  family  ghost,  and  a  moment  after  she  had 
spoken  she  could  have  cut  out  her  tongue. 

Hernani  was  strong,  rich,  and  respected,  but  he  had 
no  children,  and  of  course  he  would  have  given  all  he 
had  in  the  world  in  exchange  for  them.  He  wanted  a 
son  to  bear  his  name,  a  son  to  whom  he  could  leave  his 
wealth,  and  when  exasperated  by  some  new  act  of  oppres 
sion — some  evil  tidings  which  told  of  his  people  being 
wrongfully  used — he  had  been  heard  to  declare  that  he 
wanted  a  son  wrhose  heart  he  could  set  against  those 
whose  hands  were  turned  upon  the  whole  Hebrew  race. 
Hernani  knew  that,,  compared  with  the  blood  of  the  multi- 


20  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

tude  of  those  who  had  allowed  his  kindred  no  resting 
place,  who  had  driven  them  from  land  to  land,  that  in 
his  own  veins  was  as  the  pure  stream  to  the  puddle  in 
the  street.  He  knew  that  Benjamin  of  Tudela — a  learned 
and  great  traveler  two  centuries  before  Maundeville  and 
Marco  Polo — had  mentioned  in  his  writings  that  he  had 
met  a  great  merchant  prince  named  David  ben  Hernani, 
whose  ancestors  had  acquired  their  wealth  and  influence 
at  the  court  of  the  Caliphs  of  Baghdad,  that  he  had  found 
this  same  David,  with  some  thousands  of  his  kindred, 
living  at  the  city  of  Bussorah,  situated  on  an  island  in 
the  river  Tigris;  but  of  the  actual  existence  of  members 
of  his  own  family  at  Damascus,  Cairo,  and  afterward  at 
Constantinople,  he — Hernani — possessed  positive  proof. 
Within  his  owrn  house  were  stored  quaint  stones  in  an 
cient  rings,  bearing  inscriptions,,  curious  relics  as  well  as 
documentary  evidence,  which  proved  that  the  long  line  of 
dead  from  whom  he  had  sprung  were  not  barbarians,  but 
had  played  their  parts  as  men  of  culture,  wisdom  and  re 
finement,  through  the  long  ages  of  the  past.  Part  of  the 
wealth  he  had  inherited  had  thus  come  to  him  from  such 
men,  who,  as  renowned  doctors  and  persevering  and 
astute  merchants,  had  fought  their  way  in  these  ancient 
cities  of  the  far  east.  Always  scattered  and  oppressed 
these  men  of  old  had  battled  against  overwhelming  odds 
with  the  most  superb  courage,  and,  like  them,  Hernani 
had  the  desire  to  grapple  to  the  death  rather  than  tamely 
submit  to  be  swept  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  This  lack 
of  children,  then,  was  the  plague  spot  in  his  life  to  which 
his  eye  often  turned  darkly.  His  wife  was  so  beautiful, 
but  beauty  was  dear,  bought  at  the  price  of  barrenness, 
for  any  hag  in  the  streets  could  bear  children — too  many 
of  them,  as  he  knew  to  his  cost.  True,  he  suppressed 
these  feelings  as  much  as  he  could,  but  every  now  and 
then  the  demon  of  dissatisfaction  would  up  and  declare 
himself.  Some  trifling  and  innocent  allusion  of  the  sort 
related,  some  chance  remark  about  other  people's  chil- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  21 

dren — their  beauty,  ability,  the  trouble  they  gave  or  the 
comfort  they  were — and  the  slumbering  volcano  in  Her- 
nani's  breast  became  active. 

With  these  thoughts  again  astir,  he  returned  to  his 
bureau,  which  was  situated  so  as  to  place  him  in  instant 
touch  with  his  employes,  who  had  been  accommodated 
with  quarters  so  arranged  that  a  great  business  could  be 
conducted  without  in  the  least  affecting  the  domestic 
arrangements  and  general  comfort  of  the  establishment. 
Massive  and  built  of  stone,  having  passed  the  principal 
entrance  to  the  building,  which  was  in  the  center,  a  lofty 
hall  was  gained,  upon  either  side  of  which  were  doors, 
opening  into  suites  of  apartments  commanding  a  view 
of  the  square.  These  suites  of  rooms  were  thus  on  the 
ground  floor,  and  were  furnished  as  offices.  A  couple  of 
ante-rooms  passed,  and  you  were  in  the  midst  of  the 
clerks  and  cashiers.  Several  smaller  rooms  abutted  on 
this  general  office,  and  upon  the  doors  of  these  were 
painted  the  names  of  the  leading  officials,  heads  of  de 
partments.  Once  in  the  central  hall  again,  a  flight  of 
steps  conducted  to  folding  doors  whence  the  mansion 
itself  was  entered.  Then  the  luxury  of  the  place  burst 
upon  one.  Alabaster  columns  supported  galleries  and 
staircases  lighted  by  a  dome,  beneath  which  exotics 
reared  their  crowned  and  feathered  heads,  seeming  ever 
green  and  flourishing  midst  the  harmonious  tinkle  of 
water  which  rose  from  and  fell  into  a  silver  fountain,  a 
miracle  of  goldsmiths'  work.  And  no  harsh  sound  dis 
turbed  the  repose  which  reigned  amidst  the  tree  ferns 
and  palms,  the  pomegranates  and  oleanders,,  for  the  feet 
sank  in  soft  rugs  and  carpets  brought  from  the  famed 
looms  of  the  far  east.  Amongst  the  priceless  walnut  and 
pearwood  furniture  were  gems  which  had  decorated  the 
salons  of  those  whose  voices  had  reverberated  over  Eu 
rope.  Gold  and  china  from  which  princes  had  drunk,  bro 
caded  lounges  upon  which  they  had  flirted,  pictures  they 
had  feasted  their  eyes  upon,  ivory  cabinets  finer  than  the 


22  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

Pope  had  bestowed  upon  Sobieski  for  his  conquest  of 
the  Turks  at  Vienna,  and  which  had  held  documents  de 
ciding  the  fate  of  empires.  All  these  things  were  col 
lected  about  this  man,  whose  gold  had  gathered  them 
together,  only  that  he  might  beautify  the  home  he  had 
made,  the  nest  to  which  he  had  brought  the  woman  of 
his  choice. 

And  now  he  had  become  as  famous  for  them  as  he  was 
for  the  beauty  of  his  wife,  for  his  untiring  industry,  his 
financial  genius,  and,  not  least,  his  innumerable  acts  of 
charity.  He  had  built  a  synagogue,  and  an  institution 
to  alleviate  want  and  misery,  by  enabling  those  who  could 
and  would  work  to  know  where  to  find  it.  At  all  times 
he  had  opened  his  purse  wide,  proud  and  thankful  that 
it  was  in  his  power  to  do  so  by  reason  of  the  intellect 
God  had  given  him  to  fill  it. 

Perhaps  the  knowledge  that  he  was  of  so  much  use 
in  the  world  inspired  him  with  the  strength  and  energy 
he  displayed,  for  he  scanned  his  vast  correspondence,  dic 
tated  replies,  and  had  set  the  many  and  minute  wheels 
of  the  machine  he  controlled  revolving,  while  the  bulk 
of  other  men  slept. 

And  at  night  he  seemed  to  know  no  fatigue,  for  his 
dark  eyes  flashed  as  brightly,  his  tall  form  and  broad 
shoulders  knew  no  stoop;  he  was  still  fit  to  enter  into 
anything,  though  the  darkness  seldom  found  him  far 
from  his  wife  and  his  beautiful  home.  Sometimes  he 
would  entertain,  and  then  unconsciously  his  knowledge 
of  life  leaked  out,  for  in  his  younger  days  he  had  wan 
dered  through  the  crowded  towns  and  bazaars  of  India, 
Persia  and  Asia,  where  his  marvelous  capacity  for  acquir 
ing  languages — a  gift  common  to  many  of  his  race — 
had  enabled  him  to  enter  into  and  understand  the  lives 
and  characters  of  those  he  met,  instead  of  passing 
through  the  country  forced  to  be  content  with  seeing 
only.  He  had  attached  himself  to  caravans  and  had  jour 
neyed  through  the  desert,  smoking  the  pipe  and  lying 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  23 

down  to  sleep  with  men  who  valued  a  life  at  less  than  the 
price  of  a  she-camel.  His  grasp  of  Arabic  was  so  thorough 
that  he  could  have  passed  for  a  native  had  he  chosen, 
and  had  thus  been  safe  in  the  midst  of  perils  to  which  a 
less  gifted  and  capable  person  must  have  succumbed.  As 
much  at  home  on  the  deck  of  a  ship  as  on  the  back  of 
a  dromedary,  he  had  once  fitted  out  a  vessel  in  which  he 
had  sailed  along  the  African  coast,  putting  in  at  every 
strange  and  interesting  port,  making  long  journeys  in 
land  and  only  returning  when  his  mind  was  stored  with 
curious  information,  his  body  hardened  by  exposure  and 
exercise,  his  cheek  bronzed  and  his  eye  as  clear  as  those 
of  the  eagles  and  vultures  who  had  fought  over  the  car 
cases  he  had  shot. 

Beloved  by  all  who  came  in  contact  with  him,  his  re 
appearance  on  his  own  deck  was  but  the  signal  for  shouts 
of  welcome,  and  for  the  sails  to  be  set,  the  course  given 
for  some  new  place  of  wonder,  toward  which  when  the 
winds  blew  fiercest  and  the  waves  leapt  high,  Hernani 
would  himself  steer,  as  cool  at  the  helm  with  the  lee  rail 
buried,  and  the  Mediterranean  waves  hissing  and  foam 
ing  about  him,  as  he  had  been  when  his  life  had  hung 
upon  a  death-shot  from  his  rifle.  And  then  his  wealth  had 
never  made  him  selfish  or  overbearing.  One  of  his  own 
crew  or  some  poor  devil  of  a  black,  sick  or  staggering 
under  a  burden  too  heavy  for  him,  were  equally  sure  to 
receive  the  best  medicine  or  help  he  could  offer. 

He  seemed  to  remember  that  all  men  had  souls  like 
himself,  that  one  day  he  must  lie  down  when  it  pleased 
God  he  should,  and  be  as  one  of  the  least  of  them.  Of 
course  these  adventures  and  journeyings — that  strange, 
wild,  changeful  life  in  which  he  had  delighted — were  as 
a  dream,  a  page  of  his  past  in  which  Sara  had  played 
no  part,  having  been  lived  before  he  had  met  her,  as  he 
had,  in  the  hey-day  of  her  maidenhood,  though  in  the 
very  thick  of  the  poverty  and  trouble,  which  had  en 
shrouded  her  father,  and  been  her  only  birthright.  One 


24  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

of  his  acts  of  charity  had  brought  about  his  first  sight  of 
her. 

At  his  hotel  in  Cracow  a  heart-rending  story  had  been 
told  him  of  a  learned  doctor  who,  on  account  of  his  anti- 
Russian  views,  had  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  author 
ities,  had  in  fact  been  driven  out  of  one  town  and  then 
another,  always  upon  some  unreasonable  or  harsh  pre 
text,  until  at  length  his  means  had  become  so  limited 
that  he  found  it  difficult  to  support  himself  and  daughter. 
The  mother  and  two  other  children  were  already  dead, 
the  beauty  of  this  remaining  one  being  indeed  marvel 
ous.  The  older  her  clothing  and  the  less  food  she  had 
to  eat,  the  more  ethereal  she  appeared.  Her  face  was  like 
that  of  an  angel  in  a  fresco.  The  sun  had  kissed  her 
hair  and  had  painted  it  forever,  and  her  eyes,  they  were 
large  and  spoke — never  the  like  of  them  in  Cracow  be 
fore — their  color  oh!  the  heavenliest  gray  that  seemed 
violet  or  black,  as  the  light  might  shine.  Some  artists 
— foreigners — had  begged  to  paint  her,  offering  large 
sums  and  declaring  in  despair  that  if  they  might,  their 
fortune  would  be  made.  But  these  requests  the  good 
doctor  had  frowned  upon  and  refused.  He  would  have 
none  of  them  or  their  gold.  His  daughter's  honor  was 
more  precious  in  his  sight  than  pearls.  And  then  the 
girl  was  so  clever,  thanks  to  her  father's  teaching — for 
he  was  wise,  though  he  had  little  money.  Had  they  no 
friends?  Oh,  yes,  in  a  sense,  but  people  had  grown  tired; 
it  was  natural.  But  to  see  her  eyes  and  hear  her  voice- 
she  could  sing  like  the  saints  in  Heaven — was  worth 
a  visit,  well  worth  a  visit;  and  there  was  a  droshky  at 
the  door — ten  minutes'  drive  and  he  could  judge  for 
himself.  And  Hernani  had  gone,  a  little  curious,  and 
a  little  sad  that  such  things  should  be,  but  his  sense  of 
pity  astir  in  him.  He  had  found  them  as  described  to 
him — in  the  midst  of  poor  surroundings:  the  old  doctor 
in  a  dirty  caftan,  Sara  attired  in  much  worn,  ill-fitting 
clothes,  tongue  tied,  and  the  blood  in  her  cheeks  at  sight 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  25 

of  such  a  stranger.  For  to  her  Hernani  seemed  a  prince 
such  as  she  had  only  read  of — with  his  tall  form,  well- 
molded  features,  long  curling  moustache  and  sunburnt 
complexion.  It  was  winter,  the  snow  thick  upon  the 
ground,  and  in  his  handsome  fur  coat  and  high  leathern 
boots  he  looked  so  big  and  beautiful  that  he  filled  the 
tiny  room.  This  was  Sara's  first  impression.  Afterward, 
when  time  had  passed'  and  her  father  had  said  to  her, 
"He  is  a  good  man,  he  has  done  much.  Not  a  penny 
do  I  owe,  except  to  him,  and  may  the  God  of  Israel 
bless  him  and  help  me  to  pay  him  back,"  her  young 
heart  had  gone  out  to  him,  so  that  she  grew  to  blush  and 
tremble  when  he  came  near,  and  at  length,  when  she 
learned  that  he  desired  her  and  that  she  might  be  his 
wife  if  she  pleased,  it  seemed  as  though  heaven  had  de 
scended  upon  her — her  ears  tingled,  they  were  not  to 
be  believed,  and  she  could  have  leapt  with  joy.  The  wife 
of  this  man  whom  she  loved  to  be  near,  and  whose  footfall 
made  her  pulse  quicken — who  could  take  her  where  she 
would  be  free  from  anxiety,  and  where  she  could  sit  and 
think,  with  as  many  books  and  flowers  about  her  as  she 
pleased!  Oh!  the  Holy  One — blessed  be  He! — was  good 
to  her,  too  good.  Meanwhile,  Hernani,  foreseeing  how 
it  would  end,  had  ordered  the  most  extensive  prepara 
tions  to  be  made  in  Warsaw,  and  when  Sara  entered  his 
house  as  his  honored  wife — the  very  raiment  which 
touched  her  soft  white  shoulders  having  been  paid  for  by 
him  with  the  look  of  love  in  his  eyes — she  could  have 
screamed  with  delight.  Even  in  her  dreams  she  had 
never  conceived  anything  so  beautiful.  The  marble  col 
umns,  the  tessellated  pavement,  the  cozy  lounges  beneath 
palm  leaves  and  blossoming  pomegranates;  with  the 
water  showering  its  crystal  drops  upon  the  arching  green 
ery  and  then  sinking  to  rest  in  the  marvelous  silver  foun 
tain;  the  central  ornament  upon  which  was  an  oasis  in 
the  desert — a  well,  surrounded  by  date  palms,  which  over 
shadowed  an  Arab  horseman,  dismounting,  breathless, 


26  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

dying  of  thirst,  rushing  to  drink  with  the  fierce  expres 
sion  of  a  fiend  upon  his  face;  and  from  the  spot  upon 
which  his  agonized  gaze  was  bent — the  well — burst  this 
delicious  spray,  so  suggestive  of  refreshment,  luxury, 
sleep.  Then  she  had  gone  into  ecstasies  over  the  bright 
bits  of  color,  the  frescoes  upon  the  ceilings,  the  alcoves 
with  ancient  Moorish  lamps  glowing  like  huge  emeralds 
or  rubies;  and  beyond  all  that — away  from  the  furniture 
and  pictures,  the  objets  d'art,  beautiful  as  they  were — 
was  something  which  had  filled  her  soul  with  delicious 
tranquillity — a  garden — only  a  garden,  but  one  green  and 
cool,  designed  in  terraces,  where,  amidst  some  yews  and 
cedars,  pigeons  cooed  and  goldfish  sported,  while  the 
sun  told  the  time  on  an  ancient  dial  which  had  stood 
there  mutely  for  centuries,  as  a  part  of  the  building  had 
done,  being  very  old. 

Many  years  had  passed  since  her  arrival  at  this,  to  her, 
veritable  Aladdin's  Palace,  but  then  she  had  been  only 
a  child,  though  old  enough  to  know  that  her  heart  had 
gone  out  to  Hernani;  now,  in  the  fullness  of  her  beauty, 
in  the  perfection  of  her  womanhood,  she  understood  bet 
ter  how  she  only  lived  for  him.  And  was  it  wonderful? 
Had  he  not  rescued  her  from  trouble,  and  from  her  fa 
ther's  faded  cheeks  had  he  not  tried  to  smooth  the 
wrinkles,  until  the  Angel  of  Death  had  become  impatient 
and  had  taken  him?  Ah!  he  had  been  very  good,  too 
good,  but  if  only  she  could  have  given  him  what  he 
yearned  for,  what  she  yearned  for — if  only  she  could 
have  borne  him  a  child,  then  she  could  have  been  quite 
happy.  And  yet  it  was  not  right  to  grumble.  So  she 
dressed  as  she  knew  pleased  him,  and  waited  for  his 
return,  glad  that  she  had  told  him  nothing  of  her  en 
forced  visit  to  the  palace.  It  would  only  have  increased 
his  deep-rooted  hatred  of  Hourko,  and  made  his  blood 
boil,  and  she  wished  of  all  things  to  soothe  him,  being 
fearful  that  he  would  be  rash  in  some  way,  even  to  join 
ing  in  the  threatening  rebellion,  so  risking  his  position, 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  2? 

perhaps  life.  Of  Hourko  she  thought  with  loathing, 
hating  him  as  she  had  never  hated  anyone — in  quite  an 
unnatural  way,  in  fact.  His  request  that  she  should  seek 
him,  if  he  could  be  of  use,  recurred  to  her.  How  terrible 
to  be  driven  to  entreat  him,  but  then  that  could  never 
happen,  being  out  of  the  bounds  of  possibility.  Smiling 
contentedly  to  herself,  secure  in  her  surrounding,  she 
thought  this  just  as  Hernani  approached  her  with  a  let 
ter  in  his  hand. 

"Dorozynski  has  written  to  me,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Count  Andrew  Dorozynski?" 

"Yec;  you  seem  surprised." 

"He  is  a  Pole." 

"Well,  and  I  am  a  Jew.  Were  you  going  to  add  that 
I  ought  to  feel  honored?" 

"Kasimir!"  she  exclaimed  reproachfully. 

"This  is  what  you  meant  then.  That  we  have  not 
existed  on  the  best  of  terms.  That  the  Pole  has  looked 
down  upon  the  Jew,  perhaps  cursed  and  spat  at  him. 
What  of  that?  The  whole  world  has  done  the  same.  By 
this  time  we  should  be  used  to  it,  and  yet,"  he  added, 
passionately,  "that  same  world  might  have  learned  the 
lesson  we  have  tried  to  teach  it  for  so  long  now — that  it 
may  hang,  burn,  and  do  its  best  to  destroy  us,  but  it  will 
not  succeed.  We  shall  spread  over  the  earth  and  flour 
ish,  for  the  God  of  Israel  rights  for  us.  But  why  do  I  be 
come  excited?  There  is  nothing  to  excite  me,  at  least 
not  yet;  though  there  is  that  ahead  which  will  do  so, 

I  fear.  Ah!  I  have  distressed  you;  forgive  me.  So . 

Now  to  consider  this  Pole's  letter.  There  should  be  no 
enmity  between  us  because  we  are  not  of  the  same  race. 
There  is  a  similarity  in  their  fate  as  a  people,  and  ours, 
which  should  draw  us  together.  Some  few  drops  of  their 
blood,  at  least,  are  in  your  veins,  and  still  you  know  I 
love  you.  Well,  they  have  been  oppressed  and  so  have 
we,  but  they  stretched  out  their  hand  to  us  long  years 
ago.  Here  in  Poland  we  were  permitted  to  live,  pro- 


28  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

tected,  in  comparative  safety,  and  I  say  that  at  the  least 
we  owe  them  gratitude;  more  than  that,  my  feelings  are 
shared  by  others,  and  already  an  understanding  has  been 
arrived  at — of  such  a  nature,  too,  that  should  war  break 
out,  should  these  people  who  are  brave  and  generous, 
attempt  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  the  oppressor,  when  they 
have  taken  the  field,  they  will  find  us  there  with  them. 
But  Dorozynski's  views  are  moderate  at  present,  though 
he  knows,  as  I  do,  that  the  very  foundations  of  Warsaw 
are  honeycombed  by  those  who  are  preparing  for  the 
strife.  The  streets  are  empty  at  night,  strangely  so,  but 
it  is  because  preparations  are  progressing  underground. 
The  town  may  seem  deserted,  but  there  is  not  a  bed  to 
be  had  at  the  hotels." 

"But  how  do  you  know  that?"  exclaimed  Sara,  ap 
parently  startled. 

"How  do  I  know  that?" — and  then  with  stern  satis 
faction,  "I  am  informed,  well  informed,  of  all  that  goes 
on.  Yes,  if  I  chose  to  turn  traitor,  I  could  feast  the  Rus 
sians  on  fat  things.  I  promise  you  I  could  tickle  their 
palates.  They  would  give  their  ears  to  hear  the  words  I 
could  pour  into  them,  and  on  the  strength  of  them  would 
take  care  to  hang,  shoot  or  exile,  half  the  nobility  of  this 
down-trodden  land.  But  the  Poles  are  safe  in  my  hands, 
which  is  more  than  I  will  say  for  their  conquerors,  should 
the  chance  come  my  way,  for  I  have  a  score  against  them 
and  am  on  the  lookout  for  a  day  of  reckoning.  In  the 
event  of  an  outbreak,  if  I  could  only  bring  myself  to  be 
lieve  that  France  or  England  would  come  to  the  rescue, 
I  should  not  hesitate  long." 

"Why,  what  would  you  do?"  demanded  Sara,  with 
feverish  eagerness. 

"Openly  join  the  Poles,"  replied  Hernani  resolutely. 

"You!  Risk  your  life,  and  if  the  attempt  failed,  have 
your  possessions  confiscated,  your  wealth  sei7ed — be  ig- 
nominiously  shot,  after  being  flogged  and  insulted ;  or  be 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  29 

dispatched  to  Siberia,  which  would  be  worse  than  all! 
Don't  even  speak  of  it.  I  should  be " 

"Your  safety  would  be  my  first  consideration." 

"I  was  not  going  to  speak  of  my  safety,  though  you 
would  be  as  incapable  of  securing  it  as  of  protecting  your 
own  life." 

"My  life  has  often  been  at  stake  before.  I  fear 
nothing." 

"Oh!  I  don't  mean  that;  but  what  can  you  do  against 
overwhelming  odds,  against  swarms  of  Cossacks  and 
gendarmerie — a  price  set  upon  your  head,  a — 

"And  do  you  think  that  if  I  pretended  not  to  be  in 
terested,  took  no  part  in  what  will  assuredly  happen ' 

"What  is  that?" 

"A  rebellion." 

"It  will  come?" 

"Yes.  Listen,  Sara.  It  would  be  useless  to  deceive 
you;  the  gravity  of  the  situation  cannot  be  exaggerated. 
The  storm  has  gathered  and  is  on  the  eve  of  bursting. 
Those  who  have  decided  to  bear  a  hand  and  abide  by  the 
result  of  it,  are  prepared  to  play  a  desperate  game.  The 
match  is  already  alight  that  will  set  Poland  in  a  blaze. 
Read  the  signs.  What  sounds  do  you  hear  in  the  streets? 
The  national  hymn  or  prayer  for  liberty  ascending  heav 
enward,  mingled  with  the  shouts  and  turmoil  of  public 
demonstrations  like  this  of  to-day.  What  sights  do  you 
see?  The  white  eagle  of  Poland  once  more  fluttering  in 
the  breeze,  the  theaters  empty,  no  dancing,  no  entertain 
ments,  no  light-heartedness — instead  of  all  this,  heavy 
looks  and  mourning,  the  churches  filled  with  prostrate 
forms,  the  women  pale  and  anxious,  the  men  flushed, 
angry,  and  spitting  upon  the  jostling  soldiery  and  police, 
while  flaunting  the  national  costume.  No!  the  strife 
must  come,  and  do  you  think  that  as  a  Jew,  and  one  of 
substance,  I  shall  be  suffered  to  sleep  while  the  tempest 
howls  around  me?  I  tell  you — no,  again.  My  rubles 
have  been  counted,  an  inventory  of  my  goods  has  been 


3O  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

made.  They  would  plunder  me  to  feed  their  troops,  to 
liquidate  their  debts,  to  furnish  their  palaces.  Which  is 
the  best — to  stand  up  and  fight  manfully  in  defense  of  jus 
tice  and  freedom,  or  lie  down  to  be  robbed  and  mal 
treated?  The  one  must  be  done  or  the  other  suffered. 
Perhaps  not  now — not  now — a  little  time  may  elapse,  but 
it  must  come;  only  to-night  it  is  all  before  me.  The 
Count's  letter  has  stirred  me  up,  though  it  is  moderate 
and  full  of  wisdom;  for  the  writing  of  a  young  man, 
strangely  so.  He  clings  to  the  hope  that  the  Tsar  will 
show  mercy;  suggests  that  he  cannot  know;  that  matters 
may  be  smoothed  by  means  of  patience  and  petitions.  So 
it  may  be;  for  my  part  I  have  not  much  faith  either  in 
the  one  or  the  other  at  this  juncture." 

Hernani  had  risen  as  his  feelings  gained  the  mastery 
over  him,  and  with  restless  strides  paced  to  and  fro  be 
fore  Sara,  from  whose  cheek  the  color  had  fled  more  than 
once,  and  whose  beautiful  eyes  had  flashed  and  sparkled 
in  spite  of  herself  as  the  disturbing  words  were  uttered. 
On  their  cessation  her  animation  died  away.  She  saw  that 
it  would  be  well  to  calm  her  husband,  and  with  an  air 
of  easy  incredulity,  almost  of  apathy,  she  said,  "But 
Count  Dorozynski  may  be  right,  and  you,  for  once, 
wrong.  Who  knows?  Let  us  hope  so.  It  will  be  much 
better.  As  for  me " 

"As  for  you,  not  a  hair  of  your  head  shall  be  hurt. 
Have  you  no  faith  in  me?" 

"Faith? — yes,  but  you  frighten  me  when  you  become 
so  vehement.  Ah!  the  love  of  adventure  in  you  is  not 
extinct.  The  mere  mention  of  the  horrors  which  you  say 
must  come  makes  my  flesh  creep,  my  blood  curdle.  This 
home,  of  which  we  are  so  fond,  in  which  we  have  been 
so  happy,  fades  from  before  my  eyes,  and  becomes  one  of 
thousands,  broken  up,  desolate,  a  heap  of  ashes.  Already 
I  seem  to  see  the  hateful  Cossacks  and  police  crowding 
the  rooms,  their  clumsy,  ill-washed  hands  laid  upon 
the  things  I  prize;  the  very  smell  of  their  vile  tobacco  and 


HERNANI  THE  JEW  31 

vodka  oppresses  me  again,  as  it  has  already  done  once 
to-day.  A  straw  caught  up  by  the  hurricane  is  not  more 
helpless  than  I  suddenly  feel  myself.  Upon  you  a  differ 
ent  effect  is  produced.  You  are  no  longer  the  peace 
able  citizen,  the  business  man,  the  husband,  happy  with 
his  little  wife.  Your  eye  kindles,  you  are  a  man,  you 
seem  to  enjoy  the  idea  of  a  fight  and  would  like  to  try 
your  hand  at  it " 

"But  you  forget  I " 

"Listen!  I  was  once  friendless,  poor  and  miserable, 
and  the  horrid  dread  that  I  might  become  so  again,  has 
often  seized  upon  me  in  the  midst  of  the  happiest  mo 
ments  I  have  ever  known.  I  have  cried,  and  you  have 
asked  me  why;  implored  me  to  tell  you  and  I  have  not 
liked  to;  it  seemed  so  stupid  of  me.  Now,  surely,  trouble 
is  coming  upon  us  and  we  are  about  to  pay  for  these  long 
delicious  years  we  have  spent  together.  However,  if  it 
is  to  be,  you  will  see,  the  little  wife  can  be  brave — she 
can  fight,  too.  One  has  only  to  harden  one's  heart.  Yet 
as  I  have  said — you  may  be  mistaken." 

"Perhaps,  as  you  say,  it  may  be  so.  Prayers  fill  the 
churches.  The  most  High — blessed  be  He! — may  decide 
in  favor  of  peace." 

Sara  stirred  restlessly.  She  had  not  done  with  the 
argument;  she  wished  to  say  a  little  more. 

"Should  this  attempt  be  made,  has  it  occurred  to  you 
what  a  hopeless  one  it  must  be?"  she  inquired,  without  a 
quiver  in  her  voice,  and  as  though  she  did  not  know  that 
she  herself  must  be  drawn  into  the  vortex  of  it. 

"Not  if  the  peasants  could  be  depended  upon?"  he 
answered. 

"But  they  cannot." 

"Who  can  say?  It  is  impossible  to  judge.  But  all 
would  be  well  without  them  if  France  or  England  would 
come  to  the  rescue;  and  already  good  news  has  arrived 
from  Paris.  I  understand  that  the  Emperor  himself 


32  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

favors  the  cause,  and  information  of  a  later  date  fills  me 
with  hope  that  there  is  truth  in  the  rumor." 

In  spite  of  Hernani's  brave  words  and  confident  man 
ner,  Sara  remained  unconvinced. 

"In  my  opinion  the  opportune  moment  has  gone,"  she 
replied;  "a  few  months  ago  a  sudden  attack  upon  the 
citadel  might  have  met  with  success,  but  already  the 
garrison  has  been  strengthened,  and  fresh  regiments  will 
soon  be  advancing  from  every  part  of  Russia;  there  must 
be  more  than  enough  men  here  now  to  render  any  such 
attempt  hopeless." 

"Neveitheless,  it  will  be  made,"  replied  Hernani  grim 
ly,  though  visibly  affected  by  Sara's  remarks,  over  which 
he  pondered  in  silence  for  a  few  moments,  lifting  his 
head  at  length  and  inquiring  forcibly:  "But  who  in 
formed  you  of  all  this?  I  thought  I  was  supplying  you 
with  news,  breaking  something  I  ought  no  longer  to 
attempt  to  keep  from  you.  The  tables  appear  to  be 
turned." 

Sara  hung  her  head  and  blushed,  just  as  though  she 
had  been  detected  in  some  act  of  deception.  Then,  hav 
ing  made  up  her  mind  to  speak  as  she  felt,  she  replied 
vehemently — 

"But  surely  you  must  credit  me  with  a  little  sense.  I 
have  known  all  you  have  told  me  long  ago.  Should  I  be 
a  woman  if  I  were  not  curious,  and  do  you  suppose  that 
such  great  changes  could  occur  without  my  knowledge? 
Ah!  let  rne  tell  you.  I  have  lain  awake  night  after  night 
while  you  have  slept,  thinking — thinking  till  it  seemed 
as  though  my  head  would  split.  I  know  you  detest  the 
Government,  and  you  are  passionate — very — and  I  have 
been  beside  myself." 

Deeply  affected,  Hernani  exclaimed — 

"I  am  not  surprised — I  understand;  but,  dearie,  how 
needlessly  you  have  tortured  yourself!"  Then,  as  if 
recollecting  something,  he  added,  "But  why  were  yon  so 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  33 

much    distressed    this    afternoon?      I    know    the    Cos 
sacks 

"Was  that  not  enough?"  Sara  interrupted,  with  nerv 
ous  fingers  pushing  some  rebellious  hair  from  her  fore 
head. 

"Well,  yes,  perhaps,"  answered  Hernani,  doubt  ex 
pressed  in  his  voice,  his  fine  dark  eyes  questioning  her. 
Sara  understood.  He  had  been  thinking,  and  in  his 
opinion  she  had  not  quite  confided  in  him.  This  was  an 
opportunity  for  so  doing.  However,  she  had  determined 
that  she  would  say  nothing  about  her  interview  with 
Hourko. 

"Certainly  enough,  I  think.  How  unkind  of  you!  It 
having  dawned  on  those  brutes  who  I  was,  I  was  at  liberty 
to  fly,  and  I  did  so  in  terror  of  the  mob,  arriving  here 
breathless." 

"Well,  child,"  replied  Hernani  somewhat  wearily, 
''don't  trouble  to  go  over  it.  It  won't  happen  again,  will 
it?  You  will  take  my  advice  and  be  more  careful  for  my 
sake  as  well  as  your  own.  As  for  me,  you  need  have 
no  fear.  I  shall  act,  remembering  that  the  days  when  I 
used  to  search  for  excitement  will  never  come  again,  and 
I  shall  not  forget  that  I  am  a  peaceable  citizen,  a  busi 
ness  man,  as  you  describe  me,  with  a  little  wife  whom  all 
men  envy  me  the  possession  of.  Now,  will  that  set  your 
mind  at  rest?  You  shall  see  my  reply  to  Dorozynski, 
and  I  assure  you  I  have  no  intention  of  being  mixed  up 
either  with  Poles  or  Russians,  unless  they  drive  me  to  it. 
Come,  sing  to  me — sing  something  sweet  and  pathetic, 
and  then  I  shall  forget." 

Sara  rose  to  do  as  he  bid  her,  and  Hernani  followed  her 
movements,  admiring  the  color  and  quantity  of  her  hair, 
her  delicate  skin,  the  firm,  full  suppleness  of  her  figure; 
then  as  the  first  notes  of  her  voice  rang  through  the  room, 
as  if  recollecting,  he  repeated  softly  to  himself,  "Unless 
they  drive  me  to  it." 


34  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Usually  calm,  deliberate,  and  most  methodical,  from 
about  this  time  Hernani's  habits  underwent  a  change. 
The  confidences  with  Sara  were  not  renewed,  owing  to  a 
feeling  of  restraint  and  helplessness;  a  silent,  almost  un 
conscious  decision  that  no  good  could  come  of  talking. 
He  slept  at  odd  and  unusual  times,  on  the  whole  badly, 
and  was  at  his  place  in  the  office  earlier  than  ever.  His 
confidential  clerks  received  instructions  which  frequently 
brought  them  to  their  posts  at  an  hour  which  made  them 
growl  in  chorus.  They  were  being  led  a  nice  dance  and 
for  nothing.  The  chief  was  made  of  iron,  but  all  the  same 
he  was  killing  himself,  which  was  his  lookout — why 
should  they  suffer?  Oblivious  of  such  trifles,  Hernani 
certainly  labored  as  though  the  demon  of  unrest 
had  entered  into  him.  Had  he  received  an  offi 
cial  warning  that  the  doors  of  his  prosperous  con 
cern  were  shortly  to  be  closed,  that  these  were 
days  of  grace  allowed  him  to  arrange  his  af 
fairs,  he  could  have  worked  no  harder.  He  was  dressed 
and  waiting  to  open  his  correspondence  before  the  early 
post  had  arrived.  The  envelopes  were  torn  open,  the  con 
tents  read,  instructions  given,  and  his  own  clerk  would 
distribute  the  sorted  letters  arranged  in  little  baskets  to 
the  various  heads  of  departments — who  had  but  just  ar 
rived  upon  the  scene — as  expeditiously  as  though  he  too 
had  caught  the  fever  which  preyed  upon  his  master. 
Then,  as  if  not  satisfied  with  commencing  early,  the 
work  went  on  at  night,  Sara  the  while  thinking  of  him, 
waiting  for  him,  sitting  opposite  his  empty  chair,  as 
though  in  expectation  of  his  appearance,  dismayed  and 
distressed,  but  not  daring  to  speak  for  fear  of  annoying 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  35 

him.  Without  doubt  the  burden  he  bore  was  heavy,  the 
situation  he  found  himself  in,  one  to  try  the  stoutest 
heart.  Already  he  stood  on  the  very  edge  of  a  precipice, 
and  was  incapable  of  measuring  the  depths  into  which  he 
might  be  forced  to  plunge  at  any  moment.  These  depths 
or  abysses  being  represented  by  political  events,  which 
were  shaping  to  a  head  at  a  furious  pace. 

Patriotic  manifestations  against  the  Government  were 
of  daily  occurrence.  The  national  hymn  was  sung  in  gen 
eral  chorus  throughout  Warsaw,  and  in  the  light  of  day. 
Large  numbers  of  people  were  being  arrested.  Patrols  of 
cavalry  surrounded  the  churches,  the  streets  were  kept, 
clear  by  detachments  of  infantry,  and  the  Russian  lieu 
tenant  was  at  length  confronted  by  armed  rebellion. 

Sara  now  scarcely  ventured  out  unless  driven  and  at 
tended;  Hernani,  owing  to  his  numerous  engagements, 
but  seldom ;  all  the  same  he  returned  one  day  black  with 
fury. 

"What  has  happened?"  Sara  cried  the  instant  she  saw 
him. 

"More  than  enough,"  he  shouted,  beside  himself;  "the 
accursed  brutes  have  fired  upon  the  crowd,  who  were 
unarmed.  Jewish  blood  has  been  shed.  I  myself  saw  it. 
Ah!  God,  how  I  longed  for  a  rifle.  The  bullet  pierced 
his  heart — he  fell  stone-dead  at  my  side,  and  I — I  could 
only  wrench  a  stick  from  someone  and  beat  a  Cossack 
to  the  earth." 

"You — you,  Kasimir!''  she  shrieked.  "Do  you  know 
what  you  have  done?" 

"Done,  woman!"  he  exclaimed,  his  anger  terrible  to 
behold,  and  for  the  instant  becoming  almost  brutal. 
"Ah!  why  have  I  no  sons  to  tread  these  vermin  under 
toot?" 

"You  must  fly,  or  you  will  be  arrested,"  she  sobbed, 
ignoring  the  allusion,  knowing  that  he  was  only  cruel  as 
the  waves  are — in  their  wrath. 

"Fly — do  you  think  so?    I  shall  not  budge.    Arrested 


36  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

shall  I  be?  Let  them  try  it,  let  them  come — they  will  find 
me  prepared."  And  he  shut  himself  up,  to  mourn  and 
think,  ashamed  of  his  vehemence,  and  cooling,  after  he 
had  been  alone  a  little.  But  when  really  calmer  he  could 
talk  of  nothing  but  the  aspect  of  the  mob,  gathered  about 
the  dark  Monastery,  of  the  Bernardines;  of  their  forti 
tude,  and  the  horrors  of  the  scene,  inasmuch  as  they  were 
unarmed  and  so  at  the  mercy  of  the  troops,  who  had  fired 
volleys  upon  them,  riding  them  under  foot  and  flogging 
them  with  their  nagaikas.* 

In  the  evening  time,  when  Hernani  was  still  desperate 
ly  agitated,  Ivan  Nicholaevitch  was  composedly  sipping 
some  fine  tea  flavored  to  a  nicety  with  lemon.  A  sam 
ovar  and  a  box  of  choice  cigarettes  stood  near  and  Popo- 
loff  was  at  his  elbow. 

"Have  you  found  out  who  knocked  the  Cossack 
down?"  he  asked,  helping  himself  to  a  cigarette. 

"Yes,  your  Excellency/' 

"Who  was  it?" 

"You  will  be  surprised,  sir." 

"How  do  you  know?    Nothing  surprises  me." 

"I  only  think  so.  It  was  the  banker,  Kasimir  Hernani." 

"Hernani?  H-u-m-m!"  Lighting  the  cigarette,  he 
inhaled  freely,  blew  the  smoke  out  in  rings,  and  with  his 
eyes  fixed  on  Popoloff,  repeated,  "Hernani?" — adding, 
"Do  you  know,  Popoloff,  I  am  surprised!  He  seems  to 
be  a  dangerous  character." 

"Yes,  your  Excellency." 

"We  must  not  forget 'that." 

"No,  sir." 

"But  do  nothing  at  present.  The  Cossack  may  have 
been  insolent,  and  to  be  lenient  is  good  sometimes.  Re 
member  what  I  say.  Have  you  got  the  information  I 
required  about  him?  My  hands  have  been  so  full  that  the 
matter  has  quite  escaped  me." 

*Whips. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  37 

"I  have  it  here,  sir."  And  Popoloff  handed  him  a 
paper. 

Reading  attentively  for  a  few  minutes,  Hourko  at 
length  exclaimed — 

"Let  me  see — ah!  rubbish!  Of  course  I  knew  that — 
religiously,  not  strictly  devout.  Attached  to  the  White, 
or  moderate  party — looks  so  by  his  conduct;  wonder  what 
Zamoyski  would  say  to  that?  This  is  more  to  the  point. 
Home  relations  of  a  happy  nature,  the  pair  being  devoted 
to  each  other,  but  for  the  absence  of  children,  which  is  a 
source  of  great  regret  to  Hernani.  His  sentiments  on  this 
subject  are  the  common  property  of  the  household,  and 
the  relations  between  the  couple  are,  in  consequence, 
strained  upon  occasions.  Very  concise  and  yet  exhaust 
ive.  I  am  obliged,  Popoloff.  Take  care  of  the  report. 
Good ;  now  this  is  interesting.  A  gap  is  here  which  can 
not  be  filled  up,  a  rent  exists  which  must  widen,  unless 
— how  long  have  they  been  married?" 

"I  do  not  know,  your  Excellency." 

"Some  years,  doubtless,  and  wife  last  resident  in  Cra 
cow.  How  young  she  must  have  been,  and  what  a  deli 
cious  morsel;  of  a  very  affectionate  disposition,  too,  I 
should  say.  So  Hernani  desires  children,  and,  having 
none,  upbraids  her.  What  is  his  remedy,  Popoloff?" 

"How  do  you  mean,  sir?" 

"Come,  you  lawyer.  What  can  he  do,  given  that  he 
wished  to  take  action  in  the  matter?" 

"Get  rid  of  her,  sir." 

"Ah!    How— poison?" 

"You  are  jesting,  your  Excellency." 

"Well,  seriously,  tell  me." 

"I  will  consider  the  question  and  let  you  know,  sir." 

"What — can't  you  state  now?  You  will  get  no  extra 
fees  for  the  delay,  eh?"  And  the  General  laughed. 

"I  would  rather  think  it  over,  sir." 

"Very  well,  but  answer  me  this.  If  he  got  rid  of  her, 
she  would  be  free,  of  course?" 


38  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Certainly,  sir." 

"Would  she  be  disgraced?" 

"Not  necessarily,  but  she  would  sink  to  a  certain 
extent  in  the  estimation  of  those  who  were  aware  of  the 
facts  of  the  case.  Women  would — 

"Oh,  never  mind  about  what  the  women  would  think. 
They  must  always  be  jealous  of  her,  for  she  is  beautiful 
—eh,  Popoloff?" 

"Very,  your  Excellency;  but — a  Jewess/' 

"Under  some  circumstances  such  an  unpleasant  fact 
may  be  overlooked.  You  see  Esther  was  also  a  Jewess, 
yet  King  Kasimir  adored  her.  Now  although  it  would 
never  do  for  me  to  be  lenient  to  the  Jews  as  that  famous 
King  Kasimir  was,  in  consequence  of  his  affection  for 
Esther,  yet  I  will  own  that  I  am  interested  in  Sara  Her- 
nani  just  as  he  was  in  Esther,  if  I  may  draw  such  a 
parallel.  Do  you  understand  me,  Popoloff?" 

"Perfectly,  sir." 

"Well,  then,  think;  I  want  this  acquaintance,  so  oddly 
— one  might  say  inauspiciously  commenced — to  ripen." 

"Your  Excellency's  hands  will  be  full  with  this  insur 
rection,  which  draws  to  a  head." 

"Oh,  I  know — I  know,  but  not  so  full  as  all  that.  Do 
as  I  order  you.  There  will  be  plenty  of  spare  moments 
which  I  intend  to  spend  pleasantly,  in  spite  of  the  restless 
ness  of  these  pestilent  Poles.  Carte  blanche  is  all  I  want 
to  crush  them  in  a  week,  instead  of  telegrams  from  St. 
Petersburg  arriving  at  dead  of  night,  conceived  at  that 
distance,  without  the  knowledge  procurable  upon  the  spot 
— and  so  disjointing  all  my  plans.  But  why  did  you  drag 
it  into  my  head  again?  I  want  to  forget  my  worries  for 
the  moment,  and  so  gain  the  strength  to  meet  more  of 
them.  Where  was  I? — oh,  yes,  this  Jewess.  Well,  think; 
see  to  it.  I  have  belief  in  you,  as  you  know." 

Popoloff  bowed  with  a  gratified  smile,  polished  his 
spectacles,  and  then  peering  craftily  through  them,  said — 

"I  have  not  been  idle.    Aware  of  your  inclinations,  sir, 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  39 

I  have  already  thought,  and  have  managed  to  see  and 
come  to  terms  with  a  servant  Kasimir  has  had  a  long 
while  in  his  employ,  so  that  from  time  to  time,  in  consid 
eration  of  a  judicious  disbursement  of  rubles,  I  shall  be 
informed  of  all  that  transpires  in  his  household.  This 
method  of  procedure  is  one  which,  as  you  know,  I  have 
found  effective,  with  political  issues  at  stake,  and  in  that 
sense  it  may  prove  useful  again ;  his  wealth,  coupled  with 
his  violence  of  temper,  being  a  possible  source  of  danger, 
as  your  Excellency  has  suggested.  If  I  choose,  he  can 
scarcely  leave  the  house  now  without  my  knowledge." 

"Capital!    That  is  good." 

"And,"  continued  Popoloff,  with  unshaken  gravity, 
"already  I  possess  copies  of  a  correspondence  com 
menced  with  Count  Andrew  Dorozynski,  who  figures  on 
the  list  of  those  suspected  of  treason.  Perhaps  you  will 
remember  that  the  father,  Count  Thomas  Dorozynski, 
has  twice  fallen  under  his  Majesty's  displeasure." 

"Yes,  I  think  I  recollect  something  of  the  matter.  He 
made  himself  conspicuous  in  the  '30  affair." 

"He  did,  sir." 

"Had  some  of  his  estates  confiscated  and  altogether 
was  a  source  of  great  annoyance." 

"Quite  right,  sir." 

"Well,  you  have  done  marvels,  Popoloff,  and  are  wise 
to  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  such  men  as  this  young  Doro 
zynski.  What  news  did  these  letters  contain?" 

"Mild  expressions  of  discontent  run  through  them, 
sir." 

"Written  by  Count  Andrew,  you  say?" 

"Yes,  Excellency." 

"What  kind  of  a  person  is  he?  Likely  to  prove  as 
troublesome  as  his  father,  I  suppose?" 

"I  am  afraid  so,  sir.  I  understand  that  he  possesses  the 
looks  and  temper  of  the  old  Count,  who  in  his  day  was  as 
handsome  as  he  was  proud  and  rebellious.  But  he  shall 
be  well  looked  after." 


40  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"There  is  wisdom  in  that.    Is  the  family  a  large  one?" 

"Only  Count  Andrew  and  a  girl,  sir." 

"Then  there  are  the  less  to  reckon  with.  Now  don't 
forget  what  I  have  said,  Popoloff.  Be  mindful  of  my 
instructions.  By  the  way,  I  can  see  no  one — I  want 
to  be  quiet." 

Popoloff  took  the  hint  and  disappeared,  serving  up  for 
Madame  Hourko's  nightly  dish  of  gossip,  only  a  few 
choice  morsels  which  he  thought  he  might  safely  dis 
close. 

Helping  himself  to  some  more  tea,  Ivan  Nicholaevitch 
stretched  out  his  legs  and  began  to  think,  selecting  one  or 
two  remarks  of  Popoloff's,  which  pleased  him  because 
they  concerned  Sara.  For  example,  he  chuckled  at  the 
recollection  of  Popoloff's  evident  appreciation  of  her 
beauty,  and  was  glad  to  think  that  his  wits  were  at  work  in 
support  of  the  increasing  intimacy  he  meditated.  She 
had  been  in  his  mind  constantly,  but  he  had  not  spoken 
about  her  to  Popoloff,  knowing  that  the  hints  he  had 
thrown  out  would  be  remembered  by  that  sagacious  in 
dividual.  Then  he  began  to  think  how  he  should  act 
should  she  prove  obdurate,  and,  as  a  guarantee  of  head 
ing  her  off  in  that  direction,  he  contemplated  with  much 
satisfaction  the  immense  strength  of  his  position.  With 
the  power  of  life  and  death  in  his  hands,  Hernani  could 
be  swept  away  to  Siberia,  in  spite  of  his  wealth  and  stand 
ing.  He  would  simply  be  numbered  and  lost  sight  of — 
that  was  all;  then,  with  Madame  Hourko  cajoled  into 
visiting  her  beautiful  estate  in  the  Ukraine,  the  coast 
would  be  clear.  It  would  then  be  easy  to  see  Sara  con 
stantly,  and  to  exert  what  influence  he  pleased  over  her 
by  promising  to  extricate  Hernani  from  his  terrible  posi 
tion.  Already  the  banker  had  done  enough  to  warrant 
his  arrest,  and,  if  let  alone  for  the  present  while  events 
took  shape,  in  the  end  was  sure  to  compromise  himself 
even  more  deeply.  To  watch  and  see  him  do  so  would  be 
best  perhaps.  Anyway,  Sara  must  not  suspect  his  hand 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  41 

in  whatever  might  be  done.  It  would  be  well  if  she  came 
to  him  and  said,  "Help  me — I  am  in  distress."  Then  he 
might  seem  magnanimous,  in  reality  doing  nothing  be 
yond  establishing  himself  more  securely  in  her  favor. 

So  for  the  hundredth  time  Hourko  told  himself  that  he 
was  in  love,  and  that  he  was  not  the  man  to  be  balked;  in 
this  cheerful  frame  of  mind  betaking  himself  to  bed,  and 
on  his  way  there  getting  greeted  by  a  cunning  question 
from  his  little  faded  wreck  of  a  wife. 

"Do  you  know  who  attacked  the  Cossack?  People  are 
full  of  it,"  she  inquired,  as  she  tucked  herself  up,  the  light 
playing  upon  her  sharp  features  and  pale  eyes,  showing, 
too,  how  thin  and  like  wire  the  remnants  of  her  yellow 
hair  had  become. 

"What  if  I  do?"  he  answered  grumpily. 

"They  say  he  was  a  Jew,"  she  persisted,  noting  every 
change  in  his  expression,  every  movement  he  made. 

"Do  they?" 

"Yes;  so  he  may  go  free,  I  suppose?" 

The  General  wheeled  upon  her. 

"Why?" 

"You  favor  them,  don't  you?" 

"No." 

"Oh!  I  thought  you  did;  but  you  needn't  be  so  cross." 

"Woman,  don't  worry  me !"  he  roared.  "I  have  enough 
on  my  hands.  I  have  to  forward  a  dispatch  to  St.  Peters- 
burg." 

"Aren't  you  going  to  ask  his  Majesty  to  advise  you  how 
to  deal  with  Jews  who  assault  the  troops?"  she  inquired, 
her  eyes  sparkling  like  a  ferret's  as  she  curled  herself  up. 

"Damn  the  Jews  and  the  troops  too!"  he  retorted. 


42  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  violence  Hernani  had  been  guilty  of  in  assaulting 
the  Cossack  weighed  Sara  down  with  anxiety.  A  tap  of 
the  massive  knocker,  or  a  peal  of  the  bell,  sent  a  shudder 
through  her.  She  imagined  that  the  police  had  arrived 
at  last,  empowered  to  arrest  her  husband — to  carry  him 
off  despite  her  tears  and  entreaties;  and  at  the  thought 
she  was  torn  with  anguish.  She  did  not  blame  him  for 
his  display  of  anger,  but  she  lamented  it  as  an  act  of  ex 
treme  rashness.  When  all  likelihood  of  the  immediate 
enforcement  of  such  stringent  measures  had  passed,  she 
became  a  prey  to  doubts,  which  were  even  worse  to  bear. 
Her  nervousness  was  pitiable.  She  was  certain  that 
silence  on  the  part  of  the  police  meant  mischief,  that  they 
were  employed  in  getting  up  a  case  against  him,  and  were 
waiting  only  that  they  might  act  with  more  telling  effect. 
Hernani's  temperament  even  was  a  source  of  constant 
terror  to  her.  She  knew  him  to  be  fearless,  but  such  a 
quality,  though  noble,  when  united  to  a  quick  temper, 
became  a  danger  in  itself. 

As  a  Jew  too,  the  laws  he  had  lived  under,  the  in 
dignities  to  which  he  had  been  subjected,  had  irritated 
instead  of  crushed  him.  Though  he  was  rich,  in  fact  on 
account  of  his  riches,  he  had  been  mulcted  ingeniously 
and  tortured  slowly.  The  battle  he  had  fought  had  been 
a  hard  one,  and  had  rendered  him  keenly  susceptible.  So 
that  whenever  he  was  out  of  her  sight  the  dread  lest  he 
should  foul  the  authorities  was  always  hot  upon  her. 
She  would  invariably  escort  him  to  the  door  herself,  and 
with  her  last  kiss  would  add,  "Come  back  soon,  and  do 
be  careful  for  my  sake.  Remember  that  the  little  wife  is 
waiting  for  you."  And  the  strong  man  would  go  away 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  43 

with  the  tears  in  his  eyes  at  this  proof  of  her  affection, 
and  would  turn  to  look  at  his  home  wistfully,  for  he  might 
not  "come  back" — who  could  tell?  Poland  was  such  a 
strange  country  and  such  funny  things  happened  in  War 
saw;  besides,  this  was  a  time  in  which  no  man  could  con 
tain  his  soul  in  quiet — least  of  all  a  Jew.  With  the 
presage  of  a  great  conflagration  aglow  in  the  sky,  the 
gloom  and  horror  of  approaching  strife  cloaking  the  land 
like  a  pall,  none  could  gauge  the  closeness  of  Siberia,  and 
ruin  or  death  might  be  very  near  at  hand;  for  the  laws 
were  severe,  the  swarming  troops  eager  and  vigilant. 
Hernani  himself  was  consumed  by  the  bulk  of  these 
thoughts.  He  knew  that  his  wealth  was  a  danger  rather 
than  a  guarantee  of  security  in  such  days  as  those  he 
had  come  upon.  With  a  wife  to  consider,  had  he  been 
free  to  choose,  his  first  act  would  have  been  to  quit  the 
country,  but  he  was  bound  up  in  it,  since  his  rubles  were 
laid  out  and  at  stake.  What — abandon  his  fortune  to  his 
foes  by  realizing  at  a  frightful  loss?  Never!  It  would 
be  puerile,  even  cowardly.  For  although  he  could  scarce 
lay  his  finger  on  a  soul  he  could  trust,  being  like  many 
another  man  in  that  respect,  there  were  those  about  him 
who  looked  to  him  for  moral  support,  took  courage  from 
his  energy  and  dauntless  front,  and  would  have  been 
plunged  in  despair  had  he  turned  his  back  upon  them; 
for  his  travels,  knowledge  and  varied  experience,  added 
to  his  known  substance,  made  him  a  popular  pillar  of 
strength.  Months  back,  and  seeing  what  was  ahead,  he 
had  seriously  contemplated  flight,  but  only  for  a  little 
while  and  because  of  Sara.  Whether  wise  or  foolish, 
such  an  idea  had  been  finally  abandoned,  leaving  him  re 
solved  to  face  and  fight  whatever  might  come  upon  him. 
So  he  worked  and  watched,  getting  up  just  as  early  and 
retiring  as  late,  his  conduct  being  such  as  could  give  no 
offense  to  the  authorities;  political  gatherings  and  dem 
onstrations  being  cautiously  avoided  by  him. 

Now  and  again  he  received  letters  from  Dorozynski, 


44  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

chiefly  interesting  to  him  because  of  the  young  Count's 
knowledge  of  the  peasant  question,  which  he  shrewdly 
regarded  as  the  kernel  of  the  insurrectionary  move 
ment.  "Would  they  rise?  Indeed  no."  He  even  went 
further  and  said,  "Those  peasants  who  have  anything  to 
lose  will,  when  the  time  comes,  appear  as  enemies.  But 
without  some  help,  nothing  is  possible,  so  we  must  look 
to  France,  I  think.  The  Emperor's  attitude  is,  I  hear, 
most  favorable." 

The  young  Count  wrote  from  his  father's  estate,  situ 
ated  some  twenty  miles  out  of  Warsaw,  employing  a  mes 
senger  whom  he  no  doubt  fancied  he  could  trust,  Hernani 
doing  the  same,  neither  of  them  therefore  imagining  that 
there  was  any  danger  in  the  correspondence,  and  so  tum 
bling  into  it — Dorozynski,  because  it  kept  him  in  touch 
with  events  when  not  in  Warsaw,  supplying  him  too  with 
fresh  ideas;  Hernani,  because  of  the  young  Count's 
frankness,  ability,  and  shrewd  common  sense. 

Between  Sara  and  Hernani  the  touching  God-speed 
and  delight  on  safely  meeting  again  was  a  perpetual 
evidence  of  the  gloom  and  anxiety  both  were  a  prey  to. 

The  incident  of  Sara's  late  return  and  evident  distress 
on  the  day  upon  which  she  had  been  taken  before  General 
Hourko  had  been  almost  forgotten  by  Hernani,  when  of 
a  sudden  it  was  revived,  and  a  new  side  of  it  turned  to 
him,  by  a  man  whom  he  met  quite  by  accident,  and  who 
loosed  his  tongue  without  thinking.  She  had  been  com 
pelled  to  go  to  the  palace  and  had,  he  stated,  been  de 
tained  there.  Once  upon  the  subject,  Hernani  extracted 
this  information  without  showing  how  profoundly  ig 
norant  he  was  of  the  whole  affair.  Surprised  and  an 
noyed  as  well  as  doubting,  he  lost  no  time  in  applying 
dexterous  questions  to  others,  receiving  much  the  same 
story  over  again.  The  tale,  then,  was  common  property 
and  must  be  true.  Of  course,  such  ideas  as  these  fol 
lowed  upon  the  discovery.  Why  had  she  omitted  to 
tell  him — refused  to,  in  fact?  What  could  it  mean? 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  45 

He  blundered  on  with  his  reasoning,  making  noth 
ing  of  it,  and  as  if  to  provoke  him  further,  later 
in  the  day  he  was  informed  by  a  Rabbi — who  had 
been  requested  to  represent  his  class  in  the  famous 
Delegation  which  had  been  appointed — that  General 
Hourko  had  himself  spoken  of  and  made  inquiries  about 
him.  There  was  nothing  wonderful  or  even  strange  in 
this,  seeing  that  he  was  perhaps  the  most  influential  Jew 
in  Warsaw,  but — he  became  a  little  suspicious — was  this 
the  beginning  of  some  delicate  overtures  on  the  part  of 
the  General,  and  if  so,  what  was  his  object?  Sara  was 
beautiful — in  his  sight,  wondrously  so.  A  few  pangs  of 
jealousy  were  added  to  his  suspicions;  and  the  more  he 
thought  the  keener  they  became.  All  at  once  he  made 
an  enormous  mental  leap.  The  Russian  Governor  had 
seen  her  and  it  had  been  enough;  she  had  at 
tracted  him  at  once;  perhaps  the  whole  affair  had 
been  a  carefully  arranged  plot.  What  more  simple 
than  to  have  noticed  her  in  the  town,  perhaps 
shopping,  admired  her,  had  her  watched,  at  length 
seized  and  conveyed  to  the  palace.  Hourko  would 
run  no  risk  by  such  an  act;  he  would  say  to  him 
self,  "She  is  only  the  wife  of  a  Jew;  it  will  not  matter — 
I  am  safe."  It  was  a  horrible  thought;  but  there  was  a 
worse  one  to  come.  He  had  never  known  Sara  refuse 
point-blank  to  tell  him  anything  before.  The  terms  upon 
which  they  had  lived  had  been  too  happy  to  admit  of 
secrets,  however  trifling.  And  clearly  this  was  more  than 
a  small  matter.  Whatever  had  induced  her  to  act  as  she 
had  then?  What  was  he  to  think?  Was  it  possible  that 
Hourko's  rank,  added  to  the  splendor  he  maintained,  had 
"dazzled  her,  so  that  the  attentions  he  had  forced  upon  her, 
instead  of  proving  odious,  had  pleased  her?  Was  she 
silent  because  she  wished  them  to  be  renewed  when 
chance  offered?  Women  are  vain,  Hernani  argued. 

Next  moment  he  hated  himself  for  thinking  so  ill  of 
her.    His  little  wife — impossible!    What  a  fool  he  was! 


46  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

She  was  not  like  that,  and  as  pure  as  the  driven  snow. 
Love  a  Russian?  What  a  mistake!  Love  anyone  but 
himself  in  fact — he  to  whom  she  had  surrendered  herself! 
What  madness  to  think  such  things!  Really  he  would 
soon  be  fit  for  an  asylum.  His  little  wife — well!  But  he 
went  home  and  said  nothing,  treasured  his  doubts  as 
though  they  were  gold,  more  precious  to  him  even  than 
fine  gold  or  rubies. 

Disguising  his  twinges  of  jealousy,  his  cruel  and  de 
testable  speculations,  as  closely  as  he  would  have  guarded 
the  knowledge  of  some  new-found  and  fabulous  mine, 
the  keen  eyes  of  love  looked  into  him  and  found  some 
thing  amiss. 

"What  was  the  matter  with  him?"  Sara  inquired.  Had 
anything  happened?  No,  nothing — Nothing!  Well, 
then,  they  could  be  jolly  together  for  the  evening.  No, 
he  had  work  to  do.  Come — she  could  not  hear  of  it. 
She — Sara — had  a  right  to  his  evenings — they  belonged 
to  her.  She  was  ready  to  devote  herself  to  him,  to  sing, 
to  amuse  him,  to  make  herself  charming;  and  could  any 
man  wish  more?  This  last  remark  was  accompanied  by 
a  smile  that  made  Hernani  shiver;  feeling  how  she  af 
fected  him,  and  thinking  how  weak  any  man  would  be  if  it 
pleased  her  to  make  him  so.  She  clung  about  him  with 
her  soft,  warm  touch,  full  of  love,  as  she  often  did,  but  he 
loosened  her  hands,  put  her  from  him,  and  went  away 
disturbed  and  sulky. 

Later,  when  he  rejoined  her,  a  little  ashamed  of  himself, 
horribly  miserable,  he  attempted  no  explanation,  said 
nothing  kind — she  hungering  all  the  while — but  with 
consummate  coolness  remarked  that  General  Marquis 
Paulucci  had  been  placed  at  the  head  of  the  police.  She 
could  have  struck  him. 

"What  do  I  care  about  Paulucci?"  she  replied  snap 
pishly.  Was  that  all  he  was  thinking  about?  Had  he 
come  there  to  annoy  her? 

"But  it  is  a  great  matter,  and  the  Government  is  ob- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  47 

viously  so  weak.  These  concessions,  the  Delegation,  the 
promise  of  even  more  extraordinary  favors,  is  a  posi 
tive  proof.  They  are  driven  to  it;  or  they  would  yield 
nothing." 

Goodness!  Was  that  all  he  had  to  say  to  her?  All— 
and  was  it  not  enough?  She  should  be  delighted.  Sara 
was  thoroughly  put  out. 

"Oh!  I  am  sick  of  the  whole  affair!"  she  exclaimed 
petulantly.  Then  she  suddenly  relented,  such  a  show  of 
temper  being  foreign  to  ner.  She  became  again  affection 
ate,  tender,  nestling  against  him.  "Come,  dearie,  be  like 
yourself,"  she  said;  "let  us  forget  these  horrid  affairs 
which  we  cannot  control,  and  with  which  we  are  always 
being  bothered.  Let  us  talk  of  ourselves,  of  old  times; 
we  were  not  so  worried  then;  and  you  were  so  kind — 
you  loved  me  so." 

She  had  bid  for  a  reply,  which  she  did  not  get. 

"Am  I  unkind  now?"  he  asked  coldly. 

"Oh,  no;  probably  we  are  neither  of  us  quite  our 
selves.  Do  you  know  I  begin  to  long  for  the  spring,  real 
spring  weather;  not  like  this,  warm  and  muggy,  with  the 
streets  full  of  mud,  but  fine  and  sunny.  The  trees  beau 
tifully  tinted,  and  the  birds  singing  in  them  as  though 
they  were  just  beginning  life." 

"It  will  come  soon  enough,"  he  answered  grimly;  "a 
few  days  will  decide  all  that." 

"And  will  it  not  be  nice?  You  will  take  me  into  the 
country;  we  can  drive  to  Villanov,  and  sit  in  the  shade 
at  the  little  white  Inn,  where  the  birds  chatter  so  in  the 
chestnut  trees,  and  we  will  have  some  of  those  cakes — 
do  you  remember?  We  might  even  go  upon  the  river 
when  we  are  tired  of  the  gardens.  Ah!  how  I  love  it — 
the  cattle  browsing  in  the  meadows,  and  the  stream  so 
deep  and  placid,  reflecting  everything,  the  banks,  the 
trees,  the  sky — how  I  love  it!" 

"And  yet  you  are  only  a  little  town  girl;  you  have 
tramped  more  pavements  than  fields." 


48  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

She  looked  at  him,  startled  and  frightened,  as  though 
his  words  had  recalled  some  hideous  vision,  and  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears. 

"Ah!  how  cruel.  The  pavements — yes,  I  was  poor, 
and  I  had  to  walk.  One  often  has  to  do  things  one 
hates,  and  I  hated  the  streets;  but — do  you  want — do 
you  want  to  remind  me  how  much  I  owe  to  you?  God 
knows " 

"Hush !"  he  said,  and  he  put  his  hand  upon  her  lips.  "I 
am  sorry,  and  I  am  not  a  cur." 

She  blushed  and  brightened  at  the  tenderness  in  his 
voice ;  her  tears  were  gone,  her  face  radiant  as  a  beautiful 
landscape  after  an  April  shower.  The  sun  itself,  the  sun 
she  loved  so  well,  seemed  to  gild  her  bright  eyes  as  she 
said  softly,  in  a  hushed  voice,  as  though  his  instant  kind 
ness  still  rang  in  her  ears,  and  by  no  harsh  sound  would 
she  drive  it  away — 

"Well,  then,  a  day  out  there  with  you  would  be  worth 
anything,  and  you  can  leave  your  business  for  once.  It 
will  be  so  nice — so  nice." 

But  Hernani  could  only  sigh.  This  forced  gayety,  as 
he  thought  it,  was  out  of  place  and  jarred  upon  him. 
Besides,  could  he  quite  believe  her?  Would  it  delight  her 
so,  or  was  she  acting?  Ah!  he  feared,  he  doubted. 
How  absurd  to  talk  about  Villanov,  the  gardens,  the 
river,  a  nice  day  spent  there,  when  by  that  time  he  might 
have  to  fight  for  his  life — who  could  tell? 

Before  going  to  bed  he  said  suddenly — 

"General  Hourko  spoke  about  me  to  Rabbi  Nathan- 
sohn,  so  I  heard."  And  watching  her  face  narrowly  he 
became  furiously  jealous,  as  he  thought  he  detected  a 
certain  uneasiness  in  her  manner. 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  49 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  little  while  afterwards  Sara  received  a  note  from 
Hourko,  signed  by  Popoloff,  requesting  her  to  see  him  on 
the  ground  that  it  would  interest  her  to  hear  of,  and  to 
discuss,  the  merits  of  some  benefits  he  proposed  to  confer 
upon  the  poorer  classes  of  Jews.  Perhaps,  since  she  was 
so  deeply  interested  in  their  welfare,  she  would  have  some 
useful  suggestions  to  offer;  therefore  he  should  be  glad 
if  she  would  call  any  day  about  twelve. 

Sara's  first  idea  was  to  treat  the  request  with  indiffer 
ence,  doubting  the  genuineness  of  it;  her  next  one,  to 
write  a  brief  line,  courteously  refusing;  finally  she  de 
cided  that  it  would  be  well  to  be  cautious,  if  not  for  her 
own  sake  for  that  of  others. 

Here  was  a  letter  from  the  Governor  of  the  Kingdom, 
and  the  reason  of  it  she  well  knew.  She  had  influenced 
him,  could  influence  him,  if  she  set  herself  to  try.  Why 
should  she  not  gain  an  ascendancy  over  him  that  would 
enable  her  to  make  better  terms  for  her  down-trodden 
race?  He  had  proposed  it  himself;  it  was  for  her  to 
manage  him,  for  her  to  see  that  the  suggestion  he  had  set 
down  bore  fruit. 

Would  it  not  be  selfish,  almost  criminal,  on  her  part, 
to  neglect  such  a  chance  of  doing  good  to  a  vast  body  of 
sorely-tried,  hard-working,  and  deserving  people,  whose 
lives  she  knew  so  well,  and  with  whom  she  could  sym 
pathize  as  few  could,  having  actually  lived  as  thousands 
of  them  were  living?  They  had  no  one  to  put  in  a  word 
for  them,  no  one  who  cared  whether  the  ready-made  col 
lar  about  their  necks  was  tight  or  no,  or,  if  caring,  could 
get  it  loosened.  Perhaps  she  had  some  such  power  in  her 
hands,  if  she  would  only  exert  herself  and  conquer  the 
4 


50  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

repugnance  she  felt  for  the  task.  Why  should  she  hate 
General  Hourko  so  much — shrink  from  approaching  him 
as  though  he  were  an  adder?  He  must  have  his  good 
qualities,  and  had  shown  himself  polite  and  reasonable 
enough,  though  perhaps  that  was  because  he  had  been 
affected  by  her  beauty.  But  for  his  one  remark  about 
her,  and  the  expression  of  his  eyes,  which  was  wicked, 
she  could  find  no  fault  with  his  reception  and  treatment  of 
her.  Then  came  another  and  a  last  thought  which  decid 
ed  her.  She  could  remember  ridiculing  as  an  impossi 
bility  the  idea  of  begging  anything  of  General  Hourko. 
Already  she  saw  reasons  why  those  views  should  be  modi 
fied.  So  sure  as  she  lived,  Hernani  would  put  his  neck 
under  the  heel  of  the  Government,  hating  the  existing 
officialism  as  he  did,  writhing  under  the  cruelty  and  in 
justice  he  maintained  it  had  already  been  guilty  of;  ready, 
despite  his  coolness  and  judgment  in  other  matters,  to 
leap  to  arms  should  the  least  chance  of  success  offer. 
She  might  well  look  ahead  and  prepare  a  chance  of  es 
cape  for  him,  should  failure  attend  him  as  she  dreaded. 
As  matters  stood,  any  day  he  might  have  to  answer  for 
his  furious  attack  upon  the  Cossack.  How  well  then  if 
she  could  buoy  the  course  he  was  taking,  since  she  could 
not  direct  it,  and  so  by  her  own  judicious  behavior,  find 
him,  when  the  storm  burst,  an  anchorage  in  which  he 
could  lie  safe.  What  a  wife  she  would  thus  prove  herself. 
The  reason  why  he  had  not  already  been  roughly  dealt 
with  was  perhaps  due  to  her  influence,  for  how  many 
thousands  had  gone  to  Siberia  for  a  much  lighter  of 
fense! 

On  her  own  account  she  must  not  be  nervous;  she 
could  take  care  of  herself  well  enough,  and  for  the  pres 
ent,  certainly,  there  was  nothing  to  fear.  For  the  best 
possible  reasons  she  must  continue  to  be  silent  to  Her 
nani,  for  to  take  him  into  her  confidence,  detesting  Hour 
ko  as  he  did,  would  be  to  abandon  her  projects  and  in 
furiate  him,  since  she  would  have  to  speak  of  the  visit 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  51 

she  had  already  been  compelled  to  make  to  the  palace, 
which  would  be  summed  up  by  him  in  one  word — inso 
lence.  No;  she  must  keep  her  own  counsel  and  act  as 
seemed  best,  redoubling  her  caution  to  prevent  him  from 
discovering  what  she  was  about. 

There  was,  however,  just  this  difficulty  of  which  she 
was  unaware:  Hernani  had  met  Hourko's  messenger  by 
chance,  as  he  was  going  out;  had  actually  fingered  the 
letter  and  recognized  the  official  arms  upon  it;  when 
questioned,  too,  the  man  had  admitted  that  it  was  from 
General  Hourko.  Hernani  had  turned  it  over  and  won 
dered.  Should  he  take  it  to  his  wife  and  ask  her  the 
meaning  of  it?  No.  He  was  proud.  She  had  secrets. 
Very  well;  she  might  keep  them.  What  was  the  use  of 
trying  to  keep  pace  with  a  woman  who  wished  to  de 
ceive.  So  he  ground  his  teeth  and  suffered  it  to  be  de 
livered  to  her  without  comment,  feeling  the  while  as 
though  his  home  were  collapsing  about  him. 

When  Sara's  reply  reached  the  palace  the  General  gave 
full  vent  to  his  satisfaction. 

"So  the  Jewess  is  coming,  Popoloff!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Ah!  you  were  right,,  you  \vere  clever.  She  has  swal 
lowed  the  bait,  and  now  I  must  be  profoundly  wise  and 
sympathetic  on  the  question  of  lightening  Jewish  bur 
dens.  Ha!  ha!  do  you  hear?" 

Never  known  to  laugh  or  to  be  enthusiastic  about  any 
thing,  Popoloff  replied  with  the  utmost  gravity — 

"Is  that  so,  sir?" 

"That  is  so,  man.     You  have  read  the  letter." 

"Yes;  but  now  let  me  tell  you  something  I  wanted 
to  speak  about,  sir.  I  have  not  been  idle  in  another 
direction." 

"No;   what  have  you  done?" 

"Renewed  my  acquaintance  with  Kasimir  Hernani's 
lawyer,  Hermann  Bloch,  sir." 

"Is  Bloch  his  confidential  man?" 

"He  is,  sir." 


52  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Haven't  I  had  some  dealings  with  him?  That  mort 
gage  on  the  property  in  Lithuania — you  will  remember." 

"Quite  right,  your  Excellency." 

"Ah!  I  only  saw  him  once,  when  I  signed  some  pa 
pers,  but  Bloch  might  be  a  useful  man,  I  should  say. 
Fond  of  rubles,  eh,  Popoloff?" 

"Very,  sir,  as  I  have  reason  to  know;  he  is,  besides, 
much  about  Hernani,  and  in  delicate  matters  it  is  neces 
sary  to  have  the  right  tools  to  hand.  Yes,  I  think  he  is 
worth  cultivating.  Now,  on  the  matter  of  the  law  we 
spoke  of." 

"Ah!     How  does  that  stand?" 

"Kasimir  Hernani  can  divorce  his  wife,  on  the  ground 
that  she  is  barren,  if  it  should  please  him  to  do  so,  since 
she  would  probably  offer  no  opposition.  When  you  put 
the  question  to  me  at  first,  I  could  not  reply,  because  I 
did  not  know  how  long  they  had  been  married.  Now  I 
only  say  he  can  do  this.  As  a  rule,  divorce  without  con 
sent  is  only  resorted  to  by  the  lower  classes  of  Jews." 

"Still  it  might  suit  him." 

"It  might,  as  you  say,  your  Excellency;  of  course  it 
depends  upon  the  nature  of  his  regard  for  her.  Bloch 
says  that  he  has  often  lamented  his  childless  condition, 
and  is,  he  assured  me,  irreconcilable." 

"What  an  ass  he  must  be,  though, .after  all,  I  suppose 
it  is  natural- " 

"To  men  to  long  for  something  they  don't  possess — a 
common  failing." 

"True." 

"When  is  she  to  be  here,  sir?     It  has  escaped  me." 

"The  day  after  to-morrow.  Not  in  a  hurry,  eh?  But 
now,  Popolofif,  when  she  comes,  take  care  that  I  am 
not  disturbed.  These  Jewish  questions  are  ticklish,  you 
understand." 

"Perfectly,  sir." 

"Good;  now  tell  me — what  is  the  outlook?  Are  the 
people  less  agitated?" 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  53 

"Perhaps,  since  the  appointment  of  the  Marquis  Wie- 
lopolski  as  Chief  Minister.  But  it  won't  last;  he  has  no 
following,  and  is  detested,  as  your  Excellency  is  aware." 

"I  believe  in  him,  though.  He  is  the  most  able  man  in 
the  country.  Count  Zamoyski  hasn't  half  his  brains." 

"But  he  is  popular,  sir." 

"Ah!     A  great  matter." 

"The  bulk  of  people  assert  that  the  Government  is 
weak;  that  is  one  reason  for  the  lull.  The  instant  the 
notion  is  fully  digested,  their  importunities  will  begin, 
and  increase  in  proportion  to  the  clemency  shown  them." 

"The  Government  weak?  They  think  that,  do  they! 

What  d d  impertinence!  They  shall  see  in  good 

time.  We  can  eat  them  up  at  any  moment.  And  yet 
there  are  few  visible  signs  of  disturbance." 

"I  have  been  told,  sir,  that  a  white  squall — a  storm 
much  dreaded  by  sailors — scarcely  signalizes  its  ap 
proach." 

"From  which  simile  I  suppose  you  mean  to  infer  that 
this  Polish  madness  is  ripening  beneath  smiles?" 

"Exactly;  the  smiles  of  a  villain  when  meaning  to  be 
most  deadly." 

"I  daresay;  I  incline  to  agree  with  you,  though  you 
are  a  bit  of  an  old  croaker,  Popoloff.  Any  news  from 
the  Ukraine?" 

"A  letter  to-day " 

"Ah!    Is  it  much  warmer  there  just  now?" 

"Much,  sir." 

"Of  course  it  is;  I  reminded  Madame  Hourko.  The 
cold  of  this  place  kills  her.  A  run  down  there  would  set 
her  up.  You  tell  her  about  it."  And  the  General  saun 
tered  to  a  window,  while  Popoloff  went  away  with  a 
cunning  grin  of  understanding  and  a  folio  of  papers 
tucked  beneath  his  arm. 


54  HERNANI  THE  JEW 


CHAPTER  VI. 

With  the  light  of  the  morning  upon  which  Sara  was 
to  see  Hourko,  came  a  load  as  of  lead  upon  her  heart. 
A  sense  of  approaching  calamity,  as  though  an  irretrace 
able  step  were  being  taken,  was  blended  with  a  tumult 
of  doubts  which  she  thought  she  had  set  at  rest.  Was 
she  acting  wisely  in  going?  Would  her  visit  be  pro 
ductive  of  the  good  she  expected;  and  was  it  safe  for  her 
to  trust  herself  inside  that  great  palace,  with  a  man  of 
whom  such  stories  as  she  had  heard  were  told?  She 
distrusted  and 'detested  him;  then  why  should  she  vol 
untarily  put  herself  in  his  power?  To  end  this  mental 
conflict  which  threatened  to  become  interminable,  she 
asked  herself  one  question:  "Am  I  trying  to  do  right?" 
and  the  answer  was  an  emphatic  "Yes."  Then  what 
disturbed  her  so  unnaturally?  If  on  the  side  of  right, 
what  had  she  to  fear?  She  was  going  to  sacrifice  her 
own  feelings  for  the  good  of  others,  and  in  so  doing  she 
should  have  experienced  a  sense  of  restfulness,  of  quiet 
pleasure,  as  though  an  angel  had  crept  into  her  heart 
and  made  its  abode  there. 

Perhaps  the  anxiety  she  had  felt  about  Hernani  had 
upset  her.  Never  had  he  been  so  cold,  so  preoccupied, 
seeming  to  avoid  her,  even  to  shrink  from  seeing  her 
during  the  last  day  or  so.  That  was  it,  and  no  wonder, 
when  through  the  whole  of  their  married  life  they  had 
been  so  happy  together:  perfectly  so,  but  for  the  occa 
sional  uprising  of  the  ghost — this  question  of  children. 
But  his  mood  would  pass,  the  old  days  would  return; 
likely  enough  some  troubles  of  his  own — business  wor 
ries — were  at  the  root  of  the  matter. 

"Patience    little  wifey,"  she  said  to  herself  over  and 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  55 

over  again;  "as  Riva  is  fond  of  reminding  me,  to  be 
patient  is  sometimes  better  than  to  have  great  riches." 
And  as  the  time  came  to  go  she  put  on  her  hat  and 
warm  wraps,  Riva  Krein  waiting  upon  her  and  fastening 
her  boots;  and  when  she  was  ready  she  breathed  more 
freely  and  her  heart  became  light  again. 

Riva  Krein  was  old  and  peaked  and  yellow;  half  the 
size  she  had  once  been,  owing  to  time,  poor  food,  and 
trouble.  But  she  still  possessed  the  eyes  of  her  youth, 
dark  and  piercing;  and  her  hair  had  retained  its  color, 
for,  though  very  thin,  it  was  still  black. 

Sara  had  no  secrets  from  Riva,  for  she  had  clung  to 
the  family  in  sickness  and  health,  through  good  and  evil 
repute,  until  grinding  poverty  had  forced  her  away  for  a 
while.  When  Sara's  fortunate  marriage  had  come 
about,  she  had  sought  her  out,  and  given  her  a  home 
and  wages  that  the  old  woman  could  never  have  got 
elsewhere.  For  Sara  was  not  one  to  forget  faithfulness 
and  kindness.  Riva  Krein  knew  that,  and  her  love  for 
her  amounted  to  worship;  otherwise  she  was  cunning 
and  a  little  unscrupulous.  Perhaps  the  world  had  made 
her  so,  for  her  legs  had  trembled  always  under  the  load 
she  had  carried  from  her  cradle. 

"Riva,"  Sara  said,  last  thing,  wishing  to  leave  some 
trace  of  herself  if  need  be,  "I  am  going  to  the  palace  to 
see  General  Hourko.  It  is  to  do  good  to  people  like  the 
Bielois,  you  understand.  And  you  are  to  say  nothing 
unless  you  have  cause  to  be  anxious.  Mind  now,  not 
a  word  to  a  soul." 

"Very  well,  my  lamb;  I  will  count  and  think,  but  will 
be  as  silent  as  a  sepulchre.  What  says  the  law — 'Silence 
is  the  fence  round  wisdom.' ': 

With  a  nod  and  smile  of  approval,  Sara  set  off,  quick 
ening  her  step  in  the  cool  bracing  air,  and  feeling  re 
freshed  and  invigorated  by  it.  She  was  anxious  to 
escape  observation  as  much  as  possible,  yet  she  stopped 
to  give  a  few  kopecs  to  a  little  girl  whose  appearance 


56  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

pleased  her,  but  who  made  her  sigh  as  she  remembered 
that  she  had  no  little  baby  face  of  her  own  to  cheer 
her.  It  was  so  strange,  since  she  was  so  well  formed 
and  so  robust.  But  she  was  not  disposed  to  look  sadly 
upon  anything  just  then;  she  could  do  good,  and  if  some 
things  were  not  as  she  wished,  she  had  her  use  in  the 
world.  Besides,  since  she  had  not  been  out  for  days, 
the  scenes  so  familiar  wore  a  refreshing  aspect  of  new 
ness  cheering  to  her.  It  was  as  though  she  had  been 
ill  and  was  taking  her  first  walk.  As  she  entered  the 
palace  her  pulse  quickened,  and  it  occurred  to  her  how 
strange  it  was  to  be  calling  upon  a  man  who,  in  Cracow, 
but  a  few  years  back,  might  almost  have  flung  her  a  few 
kopecs,  had  he  been  in  a  mood  for  giving  alms;  and 
she  shuddered  as  she  remembered  how  weak  and  faint 
she  had  often  felt  in  those  days,  and  how  the  bleak 
winds  used  to  pierce  her  clothing,  while  the  snow  and 
rain  had  soaked  through  her  boots  and  chilled  her  feet. 
Ah !  it  was  all  very  strange,  strange  too  and  tragic,  that 
the  man  who  had  lifted  her  out  of  such  suffering,  who 
had  clothed  and  fed  her  so  well,  should  at  that  instant 
have  his  eyes  fixed  upon  her — eyes  in  which  wrath  and 
anguish  fought. 

Had  she  glanced  back  with  keen  enough  vision  to 
recognize  who  had  tracked  her,  she  might  have  saved 
herself  the  bitterest  suffering,  and  the  loving  heart  she 
owed  so  much  to,  an  ache  like  unto  death.  But  she 
went  on  without  once  turning,  and  when  she  had  disap 
peared,  Hernani,  muffled  in  a  great  coat  and  fur  cap, 
came  to  a  standstill  in  an  archway,  watching.  Occasion 
ally  a  tear  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  was  very  pale, 
but  he  scarcely  moved  for  a  good  two  hours,  after  which 
time  she  reappeared,  passing  within  a  few  feet  of  him 
as  he  shrank  back  from  her  sight. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  57 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"And  what  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself?"  Her- 
nani  inquired  when  they  met,  hours  after,  his  voice  ring 
ing  true  as  though  no  mental  conflict  had  shaken  him. 

"I — oh!    I  have  been  out,"  answered  Sara. 

"Yes;  well,  and  who  did  you  see,  and  what  did  you 
buy?" 

"I  saw  scarcely  anyone  to  speak  to.  Old  Bloch  came 
puffing  along,  looking  as  fat  and  red  and  funny  as  ever. 
I  always  laugh  when  I  look  at  him." 

"Do  you — what,  Hermann  Bloch,  the  notary?" 

"Yes — our  Bloch.  Don't  you  think  he  is  odd  look- 
ing?" 

"Perhaps.  I  have  never  thought  of  him  but  in  con 
nection  with  business.  He  is  very  clever." 

"So  he  ought  to  be." 

"Why?" 

"Because  he  is  so  ugly." 

"Well,  brains  are  better  than  beauty." 

"Some  men  have  both."  The  compliment  was  appar 
ent,  but  Hernani  let  it  pass.  "I  know  someone  who  has 
big  eyes  for  a  pretty  face,"  continued  Sara  playfully,  ex 
pecting  Hernani  to  say,  "Yes,  and  that  someone  has 
eyes  only  for  you,"  instead  of  which  he  said  coldly — 

"Wisdom  and  understanding  are  better  than  good 
looks,  and  virtue  better  than  the  three." 

"How  dull  and  grumpy  you  are,"  answered  Sara,  with 
affected  petulance. 

"I,  my  love?" 

"Yes,  you;  and  I  have  been  buying  something  very 
nice  for  you — something  you  have  long  wanted  and  that 
we  have  often  talked  about.  Now  guess." 


58  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"I  can't;  tell  me." 

"No,  you  must  guess,  or  I  shall  keep  it  a  secret  until 
it  is  made." 

Hernani  did  not  answer.  How  could  he  be  in  a  mood 
to  chatter?  It  was  wonderful  that  he  was  able  to  pretend 
as  well  as  he  did. 

"Oh!  And  who  else  do  you  think  I  saw  besides 
Bloch?"  resumed  Sara,  anxious  to  engage  him  in  con 
versation,  so  that  she  might  have  him  to  herself  for  a 
little  while. 

"Eh!"  stammered  Hernani,  roused  from  thoughts 
which  cut  him  like  sharp  knives — "what  did  you  say?" 

"Why  don't  you  listen  to  me,  dear?  Who  else  do  you 
think  I  saw?" 

"I  have  no  notion." 

"The  Marquis  Wielopolski,  dashing  along  with  his 
mounted  guard — alone,  haughty,  and  reserved-looking, 
as  though  his  resolutions  were  fixed,  and  that  was 
enough.  How  strange  for  a  man  to  go  about  sur 
rounded  by  soldiers  in  the  heart  of  his  own  country." 

"It  is  because  his  own  countrymen  don't  trust  him." 

"Of  course;    but  why?" 

"Why  are  people  distrusted?  Really,  Sara,  how  droll 
to  ask  me.  Because  of  their  conduct,  I  suppose."  And 
the  hateful  reflection  followed:  "Politicians  may  well 
be  doubted  if  men  doubt  their  own  wives." 

"Oh!  Well,  I  saw  Wielopolski,  and  not  ten  minutes 
afterward,  General  Paulucci,  whose  appointment  you 
raved  about." 

"Right — I  did;  but  you  seem  to  have  encountered 
quite  a  throng  of  notables.  General  Hourko,  now — did 
you  see  him?" 

Hernani  scarcely  dared  to  look  at  her  as  he  put  the 
question — by  which  he  meant  to  afford  her  another 
chance  of  confiding  in  him — and  her  answer,  which  was 
really  a  ready  one,  seemed  ages  in  coming. 

"I  seldom  see  General  Hourko;   do  you?" 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  59 

Ah!  the  hussy;  she  had  circumvented  him;  walked 
round  him,  indeed,  without  moving  a  muscle. 

"No,"  he  answered  snappishly,  and  rose  to  leave  her. 

"Are  you  going?" 

"Yes,  I  must.  You  forget  that  I  have  work  to  do — a 
dozen  letters  to  write  yet." 

"Kasimir" — his  name,  spoken  by  her,  made  him 
tremble,  so  sweet  did  it  sound — "you  always  make  some 
excuse  to  avoid  me.  I  have  remarked  it.  You  scarcely 
ever  have  time  to  talk  to  me  now.  What  is  amiss?" 

"With  me? — nothing,"  he  answered  gravely.  "I  am 
very  busy;  there  are  many  things  to  disturb  and  occupy 
me  just  now;  as  for  avoiding  you,  that  is  absurd.  If 
you  had  your  hands  as  full  as  mine  are,  such  fancies 
would  never  enter  your  head."  And  as  he  went  away  he 
added  to  himself,  "What  impudence  to  ask  me  what  is 
amiss!  And  yet,  when  she  called  me  Kasimir,  I  shook! 
Ah!  what  a  fool  I  have  been  to  place  my  happiness  in 
her  keeping — what  a  fool."  And,  with  a  face  distorted 
with  anger  and  indescribable  sorrow,  he  shut  himself 
up  amongst  his  papers. 

After  seeing  Sara  leave  the  palace  as  he  had  done,  he 
scarcely  knew  where  he  had  gone,  what  had  become  of 
him,  how  he  had  found  his  way  home.  Contrary  to 
habit,  for  he  was  most  abstemious,  he  dimly  remem 
bered  entering  several  restaurants  and  drinking  vodka 
freely;  restaurants  where  he  was  known,  and  yet  he 
could  not  recollect  being  addressed  or  noticed  in  any 
way.  He  wondered  how  he  had  conducted  himself  and 
whether  any  change  in  his  manner  had  been  observed. 
There  must  have  been  one,  he  was  sure,  for  he 
had  wrestled  with  his  wrath  and  anguish,  his  feel 
ing  of  being  stricken  to  the  earth,  of  being  de 
prived  of  the  only  affection  he  prized  and  which 
constituted  his  whole  interest  in  life;  finally  he 
had  returned  to  his  house  with  certain  resolutions, 
having  said  to  himself,  "If  a  woman  intends  to  deceive, 


60  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

she  will,  in  spite  of  one."  It  was  her  intention  to  deceive. 
Very  well;  he  was  too  proud  to  extract,  compulsorily, 
or  by  diplomacy,  what  she  would  not  yield  him  of  her 
own  free  will.  In  short,  he  would  seek  no  explanation. 
Her  very  intention  to  deceive  him,  proved  that  he  would 
hear  nothing  genuine  by  questioning  her.  He  would 
save  her  the  trouble  of  telling  lies;  of  wheeling  round 
him  by  some  tricks  of  the  tongue  which  would  leave  him 
no  nearer  the  truth,  though  in  his  own  estimation,  with 
shattered  pride  and  injured  dignity.  In  a  haughty 
silence  he  would  find  the  only  consolation  he  could  hope 
for.  If  this  woman,  whom  he  had  delivered  from  many 
trials,  and  had  elevated  to  the  honorable  position  of  wife, 
to  whom  he  had  devoted  himself,  bestowing  upon  her 
all  he  had,  his  substance  and  his  love  ungrudgingly,  and 
in  whom  he  had  confided  absolutely — if  she  could  desire 
to  keep  from  him  such  amazing  and  important  news 
as  two  visits,  to  his  certain  knowledge,  paid  to  the  Gov 
ernor-General  of  the  Kingdom,  she  must  have  reasons 
he  had  better  not  seek  to  know,  unless  he  had  decided 
to  part  from  her.  Her  race,  her  religion,  her  position 
as  his  wife,  his  known  hatred  of  this  exalted  Russian,  not 
to  speak  of  the  man's  blood  and  creed,  vetoed  all  in 
timacy,  and  increased  the  enormity  of  her  offense  in  his 
eyes.  What  had  she  to  do  with  the  Governor — what 
could  she  have  to  do  with  him — she  a  Jewess — unless 
her  position  was  a  wrong  and  ignoble  one?  The  battle 
he  had  fought,  then,  all  through  his  life  had  been  a  vain 
one.  His  existence  made  harder  for  him  than  for  many 
other  men,  he  had  withstood  the  scorching  temperature 
of  the  seven-times  heated  furnace  in  which  he  had 
been  tried — to  what  end!  Only  to  find  himself  worst 
ed  at  last,  defeated  in  matters  dearer  to  him  than  suc 
cess  in  life,  than  life  itself  in  fact — only  to  find  that  after 
all  he  had  built  everything  upon  the  sand  of  a  woman's 
regard.  Fool  that  he  had  been;  and  with  his  knowledge 
of  life,  too,  he  might  have  known  better.  And  what  was 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  6l 

before  him  now?  How  was  he  to  act?  In  no  way 
harshly,  of  course;  rather  play  the  mild  if  torturing 
game  of  watching  and  waiting,  with  his  heart  on  fire, 
his  head  racked  with  the  misery  it  had  suddenly  become 
full  of,  occasionally  suffering  with  such  acuteness  that 
his  mental  equilibrium  trembled.  He  must  look  upon 
this  woman,  with  whom  all  his  latter  days  had  been 
spent,  and  with  one  agonizing  wrench  tear  himself  from 
her;  force  himself  to  recognize  that  for  him  she  had 
ceased  to  exist.  Ah!  could  a  man  be  more  cruelly 
dealt  with,  for  in  addition  to  this  woe,  in  itself  sufficient 
to  crush  him,  there  was  the  terrible,  the  incalculable 
weight  of  this  public  calamity,  this  rebellion  hanging 
over  him.  When  all  men's  lives  and  fortunes  were  at 
stake,  to  what  extent  was  he  likely  to  be  the  sufferer? 
His  religion  and  his  riches  made  answer.  Whichever 
side  won,  in  the  end  he  would  lose.  And  at  such  a  crisis 
the  consolation,  the  inestimable  boon  of  close  compan 
ionship  with  Sara,  was  denied  him.  For  how  could  he 
make  a  confidant  of  a  woman  whom  he  could  no  longer 
trust,  whom  he  more  than  half  suspected  of  dealings 
which  maddened  him  to  think  of?  Well,  he  would  sit 
down,  he  would  watch  and  wait,  whatever  it  cost  him. 
Clearly  this  was  the  moment  for  him  to  prove  his  worth 
and  strength  to  endure,  and  let  none  know  what  he 
endured. 

As  a  Jew,  was  he  not  familiar  with  the  sensation  of 
the  world  in  arms  against  him?  Was  he  not  an  Ish- 
maelite  in  this  country  of  his  adoption,  and  a  thousand 
times  (like  every  Jew  who  keeps  his  head  above  water) 
had  he  not  proved  himself  victorious?  But  this  plague 
at  his  hearth,  this  canker  within — this  wife  whom  he 
doted  on — great  God!  It  was  hard,  it  was  terrible. 

In  calmer  moments  he  would  endeavor  to  grope  for 
consolation,  and,  convincing  himself  that  there  was  room 
for  hope,  would  whisper,  "Patience,  courage;  time  will 
show,  will  prove,  will  even  heal." 


62  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

The  hours  dragging,  Sara,  in  happy  unconsciousness 
of  the  storm  she  had  so  innocently  raised,  went  and  got 
old  Riva  Krein  to  sit  with  her,  since  she  could  not  come 
by  her  husband,  and  outside  her  home  had  not  a  friend 
in  whom  she  dare  fully  confide.  Glad  of  such  a  chance, 
Riva,  with  her  skinny  hands  folded  upon  her  knees,  and 
her  piercing  eyes  fixed  upon  the  charming  face  of  her 
young  mistress,  sat  as  though  at  the  feet  of  an  oracle. 

Knowing  how  curious  and  ignorant  she  was,  and 
though  a  little  out  of  spirits,  feeling  mischievous,  Sara 
said — 

"Riva,  the  palace  is  grand." 

"Finer  than  this,  my  lamb?" 

"Finer  than  this!  This  is  small.  There,  the  ceilings 
are  lofty,  twice  as  high,  with  clouds  and  angels  painted 
on  them,  so  beautifully  that  you  would  fancy  that 
heaven  had  opened  and  was  smiling  upon  you.  Then 
there  are  great  grand  staircases,  and  halls  and  corridors 
all  of  marble;  rooms,  Riva,  with  a  dozen  windows  on 
one  side;  the  walls  hung  with  paintings  of  battles  and 
warriors,  or  paneled  with  precious  wood,  sometimes 
draped  with  tapestry.  And  there  are  marvelous  gilded 
clocks  that  revolve  and  chime  and  send  serpents  and 
soldiers,  all  in  the  brightest  and  richest  clothes,  hurry 
ing  about  their  duties." 

"Ach!  And  the  great  Russian — is  he  ablaze  with 
jewels,  when  quiet  at  home,  as  you  saw  him?" 

Sara  laughed  a  little.  The  old  woman's  lips  were 
parted,  and  she  was  beginning  to  lean  forward,  so  as  not 
to  lose  a  word. 

"No;  but  he  is  big  and  grand  looking.  You've  seen 
him  in  the  street." 

"Yes,  but  my  old  eyes  were  too  slow.  He  tore  past 
so  quick.  But  to  think  of  you,  my  lamb;  your  mother 
would  be  proud,  that  would  she.  And  did  he  treat  you 
nobly  and  honor  you?  Never  woman  with  your  beauty 
has  been  seen  by  him  before." 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  63 

"Oh!   Riva,  how  foolish  you  are." 

"No,  my  lamb,  no;  as  I  live  it  is  true." 

"Nonsense.  Yes,  he  was  polite  and  dignified,"  she 
added,  thinking  how  courteous  and  ceremonious 
Hourko  had  been. 

"And  will  good  come  of  your  talk  with  him?  Will 
he  be  kind  and  considerate,  and  help  folks  to  food  and 
work — folk,  as  you  said,  like  the  Bielois — that  the  Lord 
- — blessed  be  He! — may  make  His  face  to  shine  upon 
him?" 

"Food  and  work,  Riva?  No  one  could  expect  that. 
But  I  don't  know;  I  talked  to  him,  and  he  may  not 
grind  them  so  hardly." 

"Then  it  was  some  good  to  see  him?" 

"Perhaps — I  am  not  sure.     Riva!" 

"Yes,  child." 

"He  loves  me." 

"He — what — the  Russian — the  Governor  Hourko! 
Lusts  after  your  beauty,  my  lamb." 

"Hush!" 

"No  one  is  near.  The  master  is  in  his  bureau  and 
the  doors  are  shut.  Loves  you!  Yes,  as  a  Russian 
would  love  a  Jewess.  But  you  must  go  near  him  no 
more.  You  would  tempt  an  angel.  Were  I  a  man  and 
young,  I  should  know  no  rest  without  you.  What  did 
he  say?" 

"He  said  nothing.     He  looked." 

"I  know — I  know.  With  eyes  like  coals  aflame — the 
wicked  one.  You  must  go  near  him  no  more.  Ah!  and 
the  master  would  kill  you." 

"No  one  knows  but  you,  Riva." 

"It  is  well  so.  To  serve  you,  for  your  own  sake  and 
your  mother's,  I  would  cut  out  my  tongue.  You  know 
that." 

"Yes,  but  listen.  I  would  never  see  him  again  were 
it  not  for  two  reasons.  First,  that  I  may  influence  him 
to  ease  the  burdens  of  hundreds — thousands,  if  he 


64  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

pleases;  and  secondly,  you  know  that  we  are  on  the 
eve  of  trouble ;  any  moment  it  may  come.  Your  master 
is  hasty,  his  blood  hot  and  full  of  hatred  for  the  oppres 
sor.  Already  he  has  transgressed  in  striking  a  Cossack, 
and  it  may  be  through  me  he  has  been  spared.  Now 
I  fear  for  him  in  the  future.  Well,  should  he  do  wrong 
— I  mean,  should  he  place  himself  in  the  power  of  the 
authorities,  and  should  Warsaw  be  given  over  to  fire  and 
sword,  as  I  dread — to  have  secured  the  Governor's 
friendship  might  mean  saving  him  from  indignities  and 
pillage,  perhaps  death.  Do  you  understand  me?" 

"Who  could  fail  to?  Ah!  but  you  are  shrewd,  wise 
and  good,  as  well  as  beautiful.  You're  your  mother's 
child.  Would  that  she  could  see  you  now!  Yet  she  is 
best  off  with  our  Father  Abraham;  and  she  may  be 
near  at  hand  as  we  speak — who  knows?  But  think — 
how  is  his  protection  to  be  bought?  For,  never  fear,  he 
will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of  ample  payment. 
Gold  will  be  useless.  Do  you  know  what  he  will  ask, 
my  lamb?  He  will  require  you." 

"Plow  dare  you  say  such  things!" 

"As  I  live,  it  is  true." 

"But  I  would  rather  die — a  thousand  times  rather. 
No — I  think  I  understand  him,  and  can  make  him  use 
ful  without  risk." 

"Don't  think  it;  the  knife  or  the  poison  were  safer 
than  the  mood  of  a  man  like  that.  Was  there  no  dread 
in  your  heart  when  alone  with  him?" 

"I  suffered  horribly;  I  could  have  fainted,  but  I 
meant  well  and  that  strengthened  me." 

"Ah!  the  Lord  was  with  you  in  the  midst  of  the 
Philistines.  But  if  you  will  see  him,  mark  me,  you  will 
make  him  mad  for  you;  and  as  I  live,  when  the  strife  is 
upon  us  and — who  knows? — the  master  away,  he  will 
carry  you  off.  There  is  nothing  to  protect  you.  The 
creatures  he  can  send  at  dead  of  night,  will  raise  the  cry 
of  'Open  to  the  police!'  The  doors  will  be  rent  asunder 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  65 

and  you  will  be  lost.  Turn  aside,  now,  while  there  is 
time.  Your  honor  gone,  would  be  to  him  and  his  flesh, 
a  victory  won.  With  wine  in  his  head  he  would  boast 
of  it." 

"Hush!  It  is  not  good  to  speak  such  words.  You 
may  misjudge  him.  Where  is  your  charity?" 

"Dead  to  him  and  his  race.  What  of  your  father? 
They  killed  him — worried  him  into  the  grave — ah!  and 
thousands  like  him,  skilled  and  law-abiding,  only  pray 
ing  to  be  let  live  in  peace.  When  you  are  as  old  as  I 
am,  and  have  suffered  as  much,  you  will  think  as  I  do." 
And  Riva  panted  from  excess  of  feeling,  her  black  eyes 
glittering,  her  long  bony  fingers  working  nervously,  as 
though  clutching  the  throats  of  these  foes  of  her  life, 
these  oppressors  of  her  race. 

"Yes,  I  know — I  can  understand  you;  the  same  fire 
burns  within  me.  Do  you  think  I  have  forgotten  my 
father's  unhappy  end?  No;  but  such  feelings  are  best 
in  bondage  at  times.  I  would  be  as  good  as  I  can,  and 
that  too  is  best.  How  foolish  of  me  to  get  excited;  there 
is  no  good  in  it.  Ah!  now  I  am  better.  Then  your  ad 
vice  is,  don't  go  near  him?" 

"You  should  not  see  him,  my  lamb.  It  is  like  play 
ing  with  fire." 

"I  must  give  up  all  hope  of  helping  these  poor  people, 
then?" 

"Whatever  he  has  proposed  to  you,  if  there  is  truth 
in  him,  he  will  fulfill." 

"Besides  abandoning  the  idea  of  being  able  to  count 
upon  him  in  an  emergency." 

"Count  on  the  Lord." 

"Oh,  yes;    but  we  must  help  ourselves,  Riva." 

"I  think  it  is  a  trick  on  his  part,"  Riva  answered, 
ignoring  the  remark;  "he  wanted  to  have  you  to  him 
self,  to  influence  you." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Sara  passionately — "you  think  he 
will  do  nothing  for  all  these  starving  people,  our  own 
e 


66  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

kindred?  And  after  writing  to  me  as  he  did?  You  say 
he  wished  to  talk  with  me,  to  fill  my  head  with  hopeless 
ideas,  that  time  and  opportunity  might  be  gained  for 
his  own  base  ends!  Oh!  you  are  wrong;  it  cannot  be 
so.  A  man  in  his  position  would  not  stoop  to  such 
actions.  If  I  thought  it — 

"You  need  think  nothing  else.  I  feel  sure  of  it.  You 
have  stirred  him,  and  that  is  all.  Such  a  man  as  the 
Governor  is  said  to  be,  passionate  and  cunning  as  a 
fox." 

"Well,  I  will  consider." 

"Do,  my  lamb,  and  you  will  find  me  right.  The 
blessed  Book  says,  'The  best  teacher  is  time;'  now  I  am 
old  and  I  may  have  gained  a  little  wisdom." 

"You're  a  good  soul,  if  ever  there  was  one.  Mind,  not 
a  word  to  anyone,  Riva.  When  I  act,  it  will  be  with 
caution." 

Riva  nodded.  She  would  have  liked  to  have  heard 
more  about  the  wonders  and  splendor  of  the  palace,  but 
that  would  all  come,  and  Sara  had  talked  as  much  as  she 
cared  to  just  then;  besides,  this  was  astounding  news 
about  the  Governor  Hourko.  It  might  bring  evil  too. 
Bewildered  and  excited,  she  hobbled  away  to  turn  it  all 
over  in  her  own  way,  and  Sara,  stepping  from  the  room 
in  which  they  had  been  talking,  seated  herself  under  the 
lofty  glass  dome,  beneath  which  clustered  the  graceful 
foliage  of  the  bamboo,  reminding  one  of  the  much  prized 
feathers  of  the  ostrich;  tree  ferns  of  tender  green  with 
serrated  fronds,  strilligias,  philodendrons,  delicate  spikes 
of  orchid  bloom,  rare  and  exquisitely  varied  in  hue, 
amidst  which,  as  though  struggling  for  the  mastery,  the 
bright  scarlet  blossom  of  the  pomegranate  and  paler 
oleander  appeared;  and  in  this  truly  sylvan  light,  half 
religious  and  uncertain,  but  wholly  soothing,  amidst 
the  rhythmic  cadence  of  the  falling  water  and  the  mystic 
shadows  of  those  great  silent  plants,  Sara  was  disposed 
to  think.  It  was  the  hour  Hernani  had  often  chosen  for 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  67 

joining  her.  Drawn  from  a  handsome  samovar,  he 
would  drink  delicious  yellow  tea,  there  or  in  the  garden, 
and  they  would  talk  over  it  of  all  that  concerned  them; 
but  now  there  was  no  sign  of  him,  and  she  began  to  call 
to  mind  the  changes  that  she  had  observed  in  his  con 
duct  of  late,  speculating  upon  their  cause.  The  great 
ness  of  her  love  for  him  enabled  her  to  see  such  altera 
tions  with  strange  clearness  of  vision,  and  it  was  cruel 
of  him,  she  considered,  to  make  her  feel  gloomy  and  sad 
without  any  reason.  What  had  she  done  that  her  mental 
condition  should  become  overcast,  through  this  unac 
countable  turn  in  his  behavior?  Why  should  he  shut 
himself  up  amongst  his  papers  with  such  persistency,  by 
so  doing  breaking  down  long-cherished  habits?  He  was 
rich  enough  without  such  hard  work,  without  work  at 
all  in  fact. 

Was  this  another  proof  that  his  love  for  her  was  cool 
ing?  Ah!  if  only  a  child  had  been  given  them,  what  a 
tie  it  would  have  been.  She  need  have  had  no  fears  then. 
So  many  of  their  acquaintances  had  ample  families,  and 
doted  on  their  children,  simply  living  for  them,  in  so 
doing  only  exhibiting  a  feature,  marked,  amongst  those 
of  their  persuasion.  Such  spectacles  of  marital  bliss 
were  always  more  or  less  painful  to  her.  Was  the  sight 
of  them,  and  the  longing  thus  nourished,  beginning  to 
wear  out  his  regard,  which  had  once  been  all  she  could 
have  wished  for?  She  knew  that  this  trait,  this  capacity 
for  loving  children,  hereditary  to  so  large  an  extent, 
was  in  Hernani's  case  even  more  strongly  developed 
than  was  usual,  amounting  almost  to  a  mania.  While 
she  was  his  wife,  it  seemed  as  though  this  keen  desire 
must  continue  unsatisfied,  his  life  remain  uncrowned 
with  happiness,  for  that  happiness  was  just  what  her  ex 
istence  denied  him.  She  had  grown  to  magnify  all  that 
tended  to  tell  strongly  against  her,  and  when  in  her 
worst  spirits  could  see  nothing  before  her  but  loss  of 
influence,  in  the  end  of  his  love.  Her  head  was  con- 


68  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

stantly  full  of  the  belief  that  her  condition  was  fast  be 
coming  a  pitiable  one;  and  what  could  she  do,  poor 
woman,  but  exert  herself  in  all  directions,  and  when 
tired,  again  pity  herself?  If  Hernani  was  not  pleased 
with  her,  it  was  through  no  fault  of  her  own,  for  the 
creed  of  her  whole  married  life  had  been  that  to  lose 
him  would  be  to  lose  the  desire  to  live.  To  die  would  be 
better  than  to  linger  on  alone.  She  knew  that  he  had 
become  part  of  her  being,  and  she  never  attempted  to 
shirk  the  knowledge.  He  was  her  all,  and  it  was  all  or 
nothing  with  her. 

So  there  she  sat  and  cogitated,  looking  so  charming 
as  the  ideas  flashed  through  her  mind,  that  could  she 
have  seen  herself  with  the  eyes  of  others,  she  would  no 
longer  have  dreaded  that  her  power  to  captivate  and 
retain  was  waning;  though  the  spectacle  of  Hernani, 
alone  in  his  study,  would  have  done  little  to  reassure 
her. 

For  the  moment  his  mental  distress  had  assumed  the 
proportions  of  outward  calmness.  He  was  simply  smok 
ing  and  eating  himself  up  with  silent  fits  of  smothered 
anger  and  despair;  yet  had  she  approached  him  sud 
denly,  he  would  have  wreathed  his  face  in  smiles,  ac 
cepted  her  caresses,  allowed  her  in  fact  to  consider  her 
self  happy,  if  she  chose.  At  times  he  thought  himself 
cruel  for  practicing  this  deception,  for  letting  her  imag 
ine — as  he  believed  she  did — that  between  them  all  was 
as  it  had  been.  He  had  a  mind  to  confront  her,  insist 
upon  being  told  the  truth,  and  by  such  means  cover  her 
with  the  confusion  she  merited.  Yet  he  always  shrank 
from  such  a  step.  When  doubts  of  her  guilt  assailed 
him,  as  happened  constantly,  he  swept  them  aside  by  re 
calling  every  particle  of  the  evidence  against  her,  which, 
thanks  to  his  jealousy  and  suspicion,  appeared  to  be 
utterly  damning.  If  he,  lulled  by  his  senses  of  security, 
had  discovered  quite  by  chance  that  she  had  visited 
Hourko  twice,  and  had  received  a  letter  from  him  in 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  69 

addition,  how  often  had  she  really  seen  him,  and  how 
many  unintercepted  notes  of  his  had  reached  her?  It 
would  certainly  be  foolish  of  him  to  imagine  that  all  that 
had  happened  was  known  to  him.  He  had  been  so  busy, 
so  close  a  prisoner  to  his  work,  that  Hourko  might  have 
spent  hours  in  the  very  house,  and  he  would  have  been 
none  the  wiser.  No,  no;  there  was  more  in  it  than  he 
had  courage  to  lay  bare,  and  further  proof  to  that  effect 
would  be  forthcoming  in  a  little  while.  There  would  be 
no  need  for  him  to  do  more  than  wait.  It  had  occurred 
to  him  to  cross-examine  Riva  Krein,  who,  as  he  well 
knew,  enjoyed  Sara's  entire  confidence;  but  Riva  was 
devoted  to  her,  not  to  him,  and  would  sooner  be  hewn 
in  pieces  than  say  a  word  against  her.  If  his  suspicions 
were  just,  Riva  would  be  mute,  and  if  groundless  he 
would  have  placed  himself  in  a  false  position,  and  cruelly 
wronged  the  only  being  he  loved  in  the  world.  But 
though  thus  harassed  and  perplexed,  with  all  these  ideas 
and  suspicions  clashing  in  his  mind,  he  adhered  rigidly 
to  the  course  he  had  first  decided  upon,  the  result  being 
that  in  a  little  while  the  dire  calamity  which  had  befallen 
him  seemed  to  have  had  the  effect  of  nerving,  even 
steadying  him.  He  succeeded  in  resuming  to  exactitude 
his  methodical  existence,  compassing  the  routine  of  the 
day  by  sheer  force  of  will.  With  clenched  teeth  he  ap 
peared  to  begin  life  again — setting  his  face  against  any 
distractions,  however  trifling;  toiling  as  though  his  ex 
istence  depended  upon  his  efforts;  turning  neither  right 
nor  left  and  parrying  all  Sara's  strictures  upon  his  con 
duct  with  a  set  smile,  almost  a  set  phrase — "Ah!  rub 
bish;  you  don't  understand.  Business  absorbs  me;  I 
must  attend  to  my  work.  Any  day  the  police  may  step 
up  and  close  the  doors  of  my  counting-house;  and  what 
could  I  do?  Is  there  any  justice  here?"  And  the  large 
sums  of  money  he  made  by  the  extra  strain  he  put  upon 
himself,  he  said  nothing  about,  experiencing  a  sort  of 
melancholy  pleasure  in  being  more  generous  and  char- 


70  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

itable  than  ever,  relieving  every  genuine  case  of  destitu 
tion  discoverable,  and  saying  to  himself,  sometimes  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  "Perhaps  if  I  am  good,  good  will  come 
to  me."  And  the  tears  would  be  brushed  away  and  he 
would  work  harder. 

Experiencing  intense  relief  from  this  heroic  effort  to 
forget  himself,  he  took  up  the  threads  of  two  gigantic 
schemes,  long  talked  of,  and  to  some  extent  developed, 
but  laid  aside  by  reason  of  the  threatening  outlook  and 
the  pressure,  at  the  time,  of  other  affairs.  One  was  the 
establishment  of  an  ingenious  system  of  banking  upon 
a  colossal  scale,  the  other  the  deepening  and  widening 
of  the  Vistula,  so  as  to  admit  of  swift  and  specially-con 
structed  steamers  plying  between  Warsaw  and  Dantzic; 
the  gain,  to  be  the  development  of  trade  to  an  enormous 
extent,  by  the  closer  connection  of  those  two  important 
places.  Of  course  neither  of  these  great  ventures  could 
be  actually  floated  until  the  political  atmosphere  had 
cleared,  but  Hernani  recognized  that  much  might  be 
done  toward  putting  them  in  trim,  to  begin  when  the 
right  moment  should  have  arrived.  Attaching  great  im 
portance  to  Hermann  Bloch's  opinion  on  both  these 
huge  undertakings,  he  had  consulted  him  some  time 
back,  awakened  his  interest  and  obtained  his  unqualified 
approval.  The  shrewd  notary,  in  whose  abilities  Her 
nani  had  such  faith,  expressed  himself  with  confidence. 
Large  sums  would  be  needed  for  the  completion  of  such 
great  schemes,  but  Hernani  was  a  power,  and  could 
command  the  minds  and  purses  of  others  as  rich  and 
energetic  as  himself.  There  need  be  no  doubt  of  the 
ultimate  success  in  both  instances,  should  he  really  take 
them  in  hand.  And  on  the  strength  of  such  advice, 
backed  by  his  own  unerring  judgment,  Hernani  had 
labored,  so  that  on  handling  the  reins  again  h'e  found 
much  of  the  work  already  cut  and  dried.  Appreciating 
Bloch  to  the  full,  he  sought  his  advice  more  than  ever, 
and  at  the  end  of  a  long  discussion  one  morning,  in 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  71 

which  an  unusually  confidential  vein  had  been  struck, 
they  ended  by  drinking  some  vodka  together  in  one  of 
the  smaller  reception  rooms,  the  door  of  which,  abutting 
on  the  central  hall,  was  like  the  rest,  protected  from 
draught  by  the  folds  of  a  heavy  curtain.  Smacking  his 
lips  in  approval  of  the  delicate  flavor  of  the  fine  old 
Polish  vodka  to  which  he  was  being  treated,  Bloch  ob 
served  that  if  he  were  of  an  envious  temperament  he 
should  certainly  covet  Hernani's  good  fortune. 

"And  you  can't  wonder  at  it,  can  you?"  he  added. 
"You  are  the  possessor  of  everything  a  man  can  wish 
for." 

"Appearances  are  sometimes  deceptive,"  replied  Her- 
nani,  refilling  the  glasses  as  he  spoke. 

"Oh,  come,  now — how  deceptive?  You  don't  mean 
to 'tell  me  that  there  is  anything  of  the  kind  about  you 
and  your  surroundings?"  insisted  Bloch,  his  keen  eyes 
playing  upon  Hernani  from  out  a  million  puckers  and 
wrinkles ;  for  he  was  getting  on  in  years,  as  he  was  con 
stantly  reminding  people,  and  his  hair,  though  so  coarse 
and  short  that  it  stood  on  end,  was  almost  white. 

"Much,"  answered  Hernani  with  some  solemnity. 
Bloch  pricked  up  his  ears.  Evidently  Hernani  was  not 
jesting  as  he  had  thought  on  the  instant. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  curtain,  in  the  hall,  beneath 
the  great  dome,  Sara  was  at  work  amongst  the  flowers, 
tending  and  watering  them.  It  was  a  delightful  self-im 
posed  task,  which  she  undertook  at  odd  hours  each  day. 
At  the  moment  she  was  quietly  absorbed  in  cutting  off 
a  large  dead  strilligia  leaf,  being  at  the  same  time  care 
ful  not  to  injure  a  choice  spike  of  orchid  bloom. 

His  reflections  puzzling  him,  after  rather  a  lengthy 
pause,  Bloch  could  only  say,  naturally  enough — 

"Nonsense,  my  dear  friend.  You  imagine  things.  All 
Warsaw  envies  you.  Do  you  hear?" 

"Why?" 

"Well,  to  begin  with,  you  are  rich." 


?2  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"And  again?" 

"You  are  respected  and  admired." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yes,  and  deservedly  so." 

"Possibly." 

"No,  without  doubt." 

"And  what  else?" 

"You  are  still  in  the  prime  of  life;  you  have  a  splen 
did  constitution,  and  you  are  clever — better  say  a  genius 
— financially  speaking." 

"And  is  all  that  worth  envying  me  for,  admitting  your 
statements  to  be  true?" 

"All  that?  Well,  how  absurd!  Why,  to  think  of  it 
makes  one's  mouth  water.  Here  have  I  been  laboring 
all  my  life,  without  any  of  your  mental  and  physical  ad 
vantages,  and  having  arrived  at  the  end  of  my  tether 
pretty  well,  I  find  myself  with  only  a  competency  in 
addition  to  the  most  modest  position.  And  then  you 
grumble.  Really,  something  will  happen  to  you  if  you 
are  so  wicked.  What  would  you  have?  Do  you  aim 
at  becoming  the  Governor-General,  or  what?" 

"I  aim  at  being  happy,"  answered  Hernani,  in  a  voice 
so  solemn  that  Bloch  was  not  only  startled,  but  con 
vinced  that  something  really  was  wrong.  His  curiosity 
was  excited.  An  admission  of  weakness  from  the  great 
man  would  be  well  worth  listening  to.  Changing  his 
tone  of  unbelief  and  banter  for  a  more  sympathetic  one, 
he  replied — 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  you  speak  so  sadly.  Of 
course,  to  be  happy  is  the  legitimate  aim  of  everyone." 

"Exactly,  and  you  for  instance  have  succeeded?" 

"I,  my  dear  sir?  By  no  means.  Practically  speaking, 
I  question  if  happiness  is  attainable.  Owing  to  the 
strange  molding  of  our  minds,  most  of  us  have  to  con 
tent  ourselves  with  the  counterfeit,  which  in  the  long 
run  we  are  thankful  enough  to  accept.  Plenty  of  people 
haven't  even  that  offered  to  them.  Take  the  case  of  my- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  73 

self,  since  you  have  alluded  to  me.  Beginning  in  pov 
erty,  no  sooner  had  I  made  a  sum  which  far  surpassed 
my  first  desires,  than  I  became  again  dissatisfied;  no 
sooner  had  I  acquired  a  small  house  than  I  longed  for 
a  large  one — a  short,  stout,  dark-haired  wife,  than  I  was 
cursed  with  the  desire  for  a  tall  slim  one  with  flaxen 
locks,  and  so  on,  ad  infinitum.  Very  well;  now  I  have 
learned  that  I  cannot  get  my  flaxen-haired  damsel,  or 
the  money,  or  the  house — that,  in  fact,  I  shall  never 
get  any  of  these  things  I  had  set  my  heart  on.  The  sen 
sation  was  intolerable  at  first;  the  more  firmly  it  laid 
hands  on  me,  the  more  I  writhed  and  rebelled;  grad 
ually,  however,  I  grew  tired,  I  became  passive,  I  was 
broken  in,  and  so  with  the  wisdom  I  have  bought  so 
dearly  I  cheerfully  accept  the  inevitable.  It  is  only  when 
all  possibility  of  alteration  has  fled,  that  we  settle  down 
to  the  counterfeit  of  happiness — contentment." 

"A  nice  compliment  to  someone  who  shall  be  name 
less,  eh?"  interrupted  Hernani,  smiling  in  spite  of  him 
self. 

"My  wife?  Well,  if  you  put  it  that  way,  it  looks  ugly; 
but — what  was  I  going  to  say?  I  have  it.  You  have 
been  put  through  no  such  mill  as  I  have  described. 
You " 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it.  You  are  one  of  the  favored  few — 
the  man  in  the  million.  Your  ambitions  have  been  sat 
isfied — to  a  very  great  extent,  I  take  it — and,  to  crown 
your  existence,  you  possess  a  wife  whom  all  men  must 
agree  in  calling  beautiful  and  accomplished." 

"Beauty  and  accomplishments  are  well  in  their  place, 
but  a  wife  must  have  other  virtues." 

"Of  course,  of  course." 

"Or  she  may  put  to  dangerous  use  her  wit  and  good 
looks." 

"Precisely.    But  look  here — it's  all  very  fine — any  day 


72  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"And  again?" 

"You  are  respected  and  admired." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yes,  and  deservedly  so." 

"Possibly." 

"No,  without  doubt." 

"And  what  else?" 

"You  are  still  in  the  prime  of  life;  you  have  a  splen 
did  constitution,  and  you  are  clever — better  say  a  genius 
— financially  speaking." 

"And  is  all  that  worth  envying  me  for,  admitting  your 
statements  to  be  true?" 

"All  that?  Well,  how  absurd!  Why,  to  think  of  it 
makes  one's  mouth  water.  Here  have  I  been  laboring 
all  my  life,  without  any  of  your  mental  and  physical  ad 
vantages,  and  having  arrived  at  the  end  of  my  tether 
pretty  well,  I  find  myself  with  only  a  competency  in 
addition  to  the  most  modest  position.  And  then  you 
grumble.  Really,  something  will  happen  to  you  if  you 
are  so  wicked.  What  would  you  have?  Do  you  aim 
at  becoming  the  Governor-General,  or  what?" 

"I  aim  at  being  happy,"  answered  Hernani,  in  a  voice 
so  solemn  that  Bloch  was  not  only  startled,  but  con 
vinced  that  something  really  was  wrong.  His  curiosity 
was  excited.  An  admission  of  weakness  from  the  great 
man  would  be  well  worth  listening  to.  Changing  his 
tone  of  unbelief  and  banter  for  a  more  sympathetic  one, 
he  replied — 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  you  speak  so  sadly.  Of 
course,  to  be  happy  is  the  legitimate  aim  of  everyone." 

"Exactly,  and  you  for  instance  have  succeeded?" 

"I,  my  dear  sir?  By  no  means.  Practically  speaking, 
I  question  if  happiness  is  attainable.  Owing  to  the 
strange  molding  of  our  minds,  most  of  us  have  to  con 
tent  ourselves  with  the  counterfeit,  which  in  the  long 
run  we  are  thankful  enough  to  accept.  Plenty  of  people 
haven't  even  that  offered  to  them.  Take  the  case  of  my- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  73 

self,  since  you  have  alluded  to  me.  Beginning  in  pov 
erty,  no  sooner  had  I  made  a  sum  which  far  surpassed 
my  first  desires,  than  I  became  again  dissatisfied;  no 
sooner  had  I  acquired  a  small  house  than  I  longed  for 
a  large  one — a  short,  stout,  dark-haired  wife,  than  I  was 
cursed  with  the  desire  for  a  tall  slim  one  with  flaxen 
locks,  and  so  on,  ad  infinitum.  Very  well;  now  I  have 
learned  that  I  cannot  get  my  flaxen-haired  damsel,  or 
the  money,  or  the  house — that,  in  fact,  I  shall  never 
get  any  of  these  things  I  had  set  my  heart  on.  The  sen 
sation  was  intolerable  at  first;  the  more  firmly  it  laid 
hands  on  me,  the  more  I  writhed  and  rebelled;  grad 
ually,  however,  I  grew  tired,  I  became  passive,  I  was 
broken  in,  and  so  with  the  wisdom  I  have  bought  so 
dearly  I  cheerfully  accept  the  inevitable.  It  is  only  when 
all  possibility  of  alteration  has  fled,  that  we  settle  down 
to  the  counterfeit  of  happiness — contentment." 

"A  nice  compliment  to  someone  who  shall  be  name 
less,  eh?"  interrupted  Hernani,  smiling  in  spite  of  him 
self. 

"My  wife?  Well,  if  you  put  it  that  way,  it  looks  ugly; 
but — what  was  I  going  to  say?  I  have  it.  You  have 
been  put  through  no  such  mill  as  I  have  described. 
You " 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it.  You  are  one  of  the  favored  few — 
the  man  in  the  million.  Your  ambitions  have  been  sat 
isfied — to  a  very  great  extent,  I  take  it — and,  to  crown 
your  existence,  you  possess  a  wife  whom  all  men  must 
agree  in  calling  beautiful  and  accomplished." 

"Beauty  and  accomplishments  are  well  in  their  place, 
but  a  wife  must  have  other  virtues." 

"Of  course,  of  course." 

"Or  she  may  put  to  dangerous  use  her  wit  and  good 
looks." 

"Precisely.    But  look  here — it's  all  very  fine — any  day 


74  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

you  may  wish  yourself  back  in  your  old  shoes,  though 
they  seem  to  pinch  a  bit  now." 

"You  hint  at  the  approaching  struggle.  Ah!  I  have 
little  doubt  of  that.  But  mind,  I  am  not  unthankful 
now." 

"It  seems  to  me — shall  I  say  it? — that  you  are  inclined 
to  be." 

"That  is  because  you  don't  quite  understand  me.  You 
must  remember  this,  Bloch — as  I  daresay  I  have  said  to 
you  before — I  have  no  children." 

"Ah!  That  is  a  trial  indeed.  I  forgot  that.  I  don't 
know  what  I  should  do  without  my  little  ones.  I  live 
my  young  days  over  again  in  them.  Yes,  my  friend,  I 
can  sympathize  with  you." 

"Thanks — I  know  that.  Now,  perhaps,  no  man  ever 
longed  for  them  more  than  I  have  done,  and  that  long 
ing  I  find  impossible  to  destroy — difficult  even  to  con 
trol.  As  a  father,  you  may  be  able  to  understand  me 
thoroughly." 

"I  can." 

"I  wanted  to  have  my  own  flesh  and  blood  growing 
up  about  me,  learning  from  me,  comforting  me;  inher 
iting  my  wealth,  as  well  as  my  name — my  own  flesh 
and  blood,  of  whom  I  could  be  proud,  in  whose  triumphs 
I  could  triumph — and  on  whom  I  could  rely — if  need  be 
— to  do  battle  against  the  Philistines" — lowering  his 
voice  at  the  last  words,  then  continuing  abruptly,  with 
growing  excitement:  "No;  men  may  envy  me  what 
looks  to  them  like  good  fortune,  but  I  tell  you  they 
would  not  care  to  be  saddled  with  my  griefs." 

"Come,  come — you  are  never  despondent.  It  isn't  a 
bit  like  you.  If  you  give  way,  what  am  I  to  expect 
next?" 

"I  am  not  despondent,  I  only  face  facts,  and  I  never 
give  way.  It  is  not  my  nature.  I  endure,"  answered 
Hernani  proudly,  and  they  continued  to  talk  in  this 
strain,  Bloch  waxing  sympathetic,  Hernani  perceptibly 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  75 

affected  by  the  kindliness,  until  at  length,  as  he  spoke, 
his  lips  quivered  beneath  his  long  dark  moustache  and  his 
voice  occasionally  shook.  Suddenly  his  pent-up  feel 
ings  got  the  better  of  him,  and  with  a  gesture  of  des 
peration,  and  passion  he  exclaimed — 

"Look  here,  Bloch — listen  to  me.  Any  day  I  may 
have  to  divorce  my  wife.  Divorce  her — do  you  hear?  It 
has  come  to  that." 

Astonished  beyond  measure,  Bloch  leaped  to  his  feet, 
in  doing  so,  knocking  over  the  vodka  and  glasses  with 
a  crash,  the  noise  he  made  drowning  another  and  more 
startling  one. 

Riva  Krein  had  been  buzzing  about  her  young  mis 
tress  as  usual,  and  had  been  near  enough  to  clasp  her 
in  her  arms  as  she  was  about  to  measure  her  length 
amongst  the  ferns  and  flowers.  Then,  with  the  tender 
ness  of  a  mother,  she  supported  Sara's  trembling  form, 
getting  her  away  so  that  the  two  men  remained  undis 
turbed. 

The  vodka  being  set  in  its  place  again,  Hernani  con 
tinued — 

"You  are  surprised;  well,  perhaps  now  you  will  agree 
with  me  that  appearances  are  deceptive?"  His  burst  of 
feeling  had  spent  itself;  he  was  cooler  than  Bloch, 
cynically  so,  as  he  added,  "You  are  my  solicitor,  to 
whom  I  have  a  right  to  speak.  And  you  won't  envy 
me  any  longer,  eh?  Would  others,  do  you  think,  if  they 
knew?" 

"Is  it  possible?"  gasped  Bloch,  his  face  like  a  peony, 
his  little  eyes  gleaming,  his  white  hair  really  bristling, 
while  he  found  it  necessary  to  mop  his  forehead  with  his 
handkerchief. 

"It  is." 

"What— give  her  gett?"* 


*Writing  of  divorcement. 


76  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Yes" — and  then  more  solemnly,  "give  her  gett.  But 
it  is  not  yet  done." 

"You — the  model  husband  and  wife!" 

"Alas!" 

"Idolizing  each  other,  as  we  thought." 

"Well,  yes,  but  this  becomes  too  painful.  Let  us  say 
no  more.  I  was  carried  away  by  my  feelings  or  I  should 
not  have  spoken." 

"I  understand,  my  dear  fellow.  But,  as  you  say,  it 
is  not  yet  done.  There  is  hope.  It  will  not  come  to 
that.  Courage,  my  friend — it  will  not  come  to  that." 

"May  the  Lord  grant  it,"  replied  Hernani  in  a  whis 
per.  And  old  Hermann  Bloch  bent  his  white  head  as 
though  in  prayer,  the  two  men  grasping  each  other's 
hands  amidst  a  profound  silence. 

"I  will  come  and  see  you  again  soon,"  Bloch  mur 
mured  as  he  went  away,  and  Hernani  merely  nodded. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  77 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Riva  Krein  had  induced  Sara  to  lie  down  on  her  bed, 
where  she  tended  her  as  though  she  had  been  her  own 
child;  loosening  her  dress,  applying  various  restora 
tives,  and  chafing  the  cold  soft  hands  with  infinite  gen 
tleness  and  affection.  When  she  had  done  all  she  could 
think  of,  and  her  oft-repeated  "Come,  my  lamb — look 
up  and  take  heart.  Tell  your  own  Riva  what  ails  you," 
had  only  been  answered  by  sobs,  she  thought  it  time  for 
her  to  cry,  so  tears  began  to  disfigure  her  faded  cheeks, 
descending  in  hot  drops  upon  her  red  and  bony  fingers. 
Sara's  distress  wrung  her  heart.  She  had  never  seen 
her  weep  since  the  old  days  in  Cracow,  and  the  sight 
carried  her  mind  back  there,  to  the  home  that  had  been 
little  better  than  a  hovel,  but  where  they  had  all  been 
together;  understanding  each  other,  sharing  the  suffer 
ing  and  living  in  harmony,  though  they  had  been  so 
miserably  poor.  Again  she  could  see  Sara's  father,  the 
old  doctor,  with  his  shriveled,  bloodless  features,  round 
ed  shoulders  and  poor,  hollow  chest,  attired  in  his 
threadbare  caftan;  she  could  hear  him,  amidst  the 
wheezing  and  coughing,  explaining  how  his  ideas  and 
discoveries  would  one  day  make  them  rich.  It  was  all 
certain — a  question  only  of  time.  And  he  had  been 
so  kind  and  gentle  and  good,  though  he  could  never 
make  a  penny  scarcely;  and  now  he  was  under  the  sod 
with  his  knowledge  and  his  unrealized  hopes,  poor 
broken  life  that  it  had  been. 

Sara's  mother,  too,  was  at  rest,  feeling  no  longer 
the  snow  and  the  rain,  and  the  frightful  anxiety.  But 
she  and  Sara — they  were  still  left  to  fight  for  a  little 
while,  and  trouble  had  found  them  out  again.  And  it 


8o  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

will  have  enemies  if  he  does  this  thing.  And  the  woman 
—who  is  she  that  he  has  in  his  eye?" 

"The  woman!"  gasped  Sara. 

"Yes,  the  woman,  for  there  must  be  one  if  he  thinks 
such  ill." 

"Yes — oh!    horrible — I  had  not  thought " 

"Ah!  but  this  will  nerve  you;  this  will  turn  your  heart 
to  steel."  And  Riva's  black  eyes  flashed  fire.  This  is 
no  time  for  sore  eyes.  Dry  them,  or  he  will  ask  to  know 
what  is  amiss." 

Sara  started  up,  ablaze  with  wounded  pride. 

"He  shall  never  know,  though  I  die  for  it.  He  has 
worked  to  deceive  me — talks  of  me  behind  my  back. 
He  shall  see.  I  will  begin  from  now.  What  is  the  time? 
In  a  few  minutes  I  must  go  down  to  him — we  must 
meet.  Riva,  do  my  hair — quick,  and  give  me  that 
sponge.  He  shall  never  know." 

Twenty  minutes  later  and  they  were  together.  Nerv 
ous  and  sensitive  to  a  degree,  trembling  from  the  shock 
received,  she  was  horribly  afraid  lest  he  should  notice 
some  signs  of  the  grief  she  had  so  hastily  attempted  to 
obliterate.  Her  eyes  and  cheeks  were  hot  and  sore;  she 
felt  ill — not  up  to  her  part  in  any  way;  and  he  who  knew 
her  so  well  could  scarcely  fail  to  discover  that  all  was  not 
right  with  her.  In  momentary  dread  of  this,  she  took 
care  to  be  ready  with  an  ingenious  explanation  which 
would  have  disarmed  all  further  inquiries,  had  he  made 
them.  Surprised  and  relieved  to  find  that  she  provoked 
no  criticism,  was  not  even  looked  at  pointedly,  and  that 
he  ate  and  drank  with  a  good  appetite  and  an  unruffled 
exterior,  after  a  little  while  she  forgot  herself  in  her  con 
templation  of  him. 

His  perfect  composure  gave  her  courage;  she  be 
came  even  interested  in  watching  him  and  receiving  his 
customary  delicate  attentions,  offered  as  though  nothing 
had  occurred  to  disturb  him.  She  knew  one  thing — he 
could  not  feel  as  he  looked;  the  tones  in  which  he  had 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  8l 

thundered  "Any  day  I  may  have  to  divorce  my  wife"  de 
cided  that.  Yet  here  he  was,  having  made  use  of  ex 
pressions  which  were  fatal  to  her  happiness,  and  must 
affect  his  own — calm  and  apparently  in  full  enjoyment 
of  the  luxury  surrounding  him.  The  sight  of  such  com 
posure  gradually  enraged  as  well  as  frightened  her.  If 
he  could  be  so  calm,  it  was  a  sufficient  indication  that 
she  had  lost  the  game  already.  He  would  not  spare  her. 
All  the  same,  she  became  furious — such  insolence — she 
could  have  struck  him,  as  he  commenced  to  chat  glibly 
on  a  variety  of  topics. 

At  length,  itching  to  make  a  plunge — to  have  her  say, 
to  convince  herself  that  she  was  no  brow-beaten  woman, 
given  over  to  listening  and  silence,  she  demanded  dar 
ingly— 

"Tell  me  about  Bloch;  what  had  he  to  say  for  him 
self?" 

"Bloch?"  he  answered  unhesitatingly.  "Oh!  he  talked 
just  as  usual." 

As  usual?  Then  they  were  in  the  habit  of  discussing 
her.  What  impudence! 

"But  was  he  clever  as  you  say  he  is?  Did  he  interest 
you — had  he  any  news  to  tell?" 

"Bloch  is  always  clever.  To-day  only  in  a  business 
way,  because  I  made  him  stick  to  business.  As  for 
news,  I  don't  think  he  had  heard  anything  fresh.  The 
suppression  of  the  Agricultural  Society  has  aroused  his 
indignation  as  much  as  mine.  He  shares  my  belief  that 
it  will  precipitate  matters,  stir  up  the  worst  possible  feel 
ing  against  the  Government.  This  immense  demonstra 
tion  denouncing  the  act,  and  covering  the  closed  doors 
and  windows  of  the  building  with  flowers,  convinces  me 
that  I  am  right." 

"But  has  all  this  happened?"  inquired  Sara,  feeling 
compelled  to  say  something;  "shut  up  here,  I  seem  to 
be  ignorant  of  what  is  going  on." 

6 


82  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Yes;  but  I  spoke  of  it  only  yesterday.  Vast  crowds 
are  now  collecting  before  the  palace." 

A  grim  expression  crossed  Hernani's  face  as  he  allud 
ed  to  General  Honrko's  official  residence,  but  it  fled  as 
he  added — 

"In  order  to  show  that  they  resent  this. fresh  step  on 
the  part  of  the  Government  as  another  national  wrong, 
and  to  fully  estimate  the  importance  of  the  action  the 
authorities  have  taken,  you  must  bear  in  mind  that  the 
most  powerful  of  the  nobles  and  proprietors  were  mem 
bers,  and  that  in  consequence  the  people  looked  upon 
the  society  as  an  institution  through  which,  as  through 
a  mouth-piece,  they  could  make  themselves  heard. 
However,  it  has  ceased  to  be,  and  another  act  has  been 
committed  and  added  to  the  list  of  those  for  which  a 
reckoning  will  be  demanded." 

"Was  that  what  you  were  discussing  with  Bloch?" 
inquired  Sara,  as  though  the  question  barely  interested 
her. 

"In  part,"  Hernani  answered,,  unflinchingly  meeting 
her  gaze,  and  then,  with  a  sense  of  pride  in  his  own 
ability — outraged  pride,  since  she  no  longer  valued  him 
sufficiently — he  entered  into  an  elaborate  description  of 
his  two  great  schemes,  about  which  he  had  never  spoken 
to  her  before. 

"You  see,"  he  went  on,  "this  business  I  am  conduct 
ing  here,  is  not  large  enough  to  absorb  anything  like 
my  whole  attention,  so  that  I  shall  have  plenty  of  time 
to  devote  to  the  operations  I  have  described." 

"Yet  it  is  the  largest  business  of  the  kind  in  Warsaw," 
exclaimed  Sara,  becoming  interested  in  spite  of  herself. 

"Unquestionably." 

"Then  what  need  have  you  to  tax  your  strength  fur 
ther  by  increasing  your  responsibilities?  Is  it  wise?" 

"I  think  so.  You  see,  we  are  living  upon  a  mine,  the 
time  fuse  of  which  is  already  lighted.  The  explosion 
may  occur  at  any  moment,  and  I  want  to  forget  such  an 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  83 

unpleasant  fact,  since  I  am  powerless  to  avert  the  catas 
trophe.  Work  is  the  only  remedy  for  forgetting  one's 
self  and  one's  troubles.  Every  day  I  grow  more  restless, 
more  ambitious;  stronger  even  it  seems  to  me;  though 
the  strength  may  be  due  to  the  increasing  excitement  to 
which  I  am  a  prey.  1  am  already  rich,  I  have  the  desire 
to  become  great;  not  only  by  reason  of  the  millions  of 
rubles  known  to  be  at  my  command,  as  at  present,  but, 
with  that  power  at  my  back,  by  launching  enterprises 
of  a  magnitude  the  world  must  acknowledge  and  I  my 
self  be  proud  of. 

"As  Bloch  said  to-day,  I  am  in  my  prime — the  pos 
sessor  of  a  grand  constitution.  What  I  shall  do  with  it 
remains  to  be  seen.  This  is  the  country  of  my  adoption, 
and  in  my  own  way  I  love  it;  moreover,  the  nature  of 
my  ambition  is  summed  up  in  two  words — universal 
benefactor.  If  I  could  set  in  motion  this  system  of 
banking,  which  I  am  confident  must  be  a  success  if 
launched  and  conducted  as  I  propose,  I  should  be  en 
titled  to  such  an  epitaph  at  least.  They  might  thank  me 
then;  it  would  cost  nothing.  Bah!  but  what  care  I  for 
what  is  said?  The  best  preacher  is  the  heart.  I  want 
to  feel  that  I  have  done  something  worth  doing.  Then 
it  will  be  all  right.  It  will  be  well  with  me.  And  I  have 
not  even  taken  into  account  my  scheme  for  the  develop 
ment  of  the  Vistula.  By  means  of  that,  don't  you  see 
how  the  cost  of  bringing  goods — all  imported  stuffs — 
into  the  country  would  be  cheapened,  and  that  thus,  by 
one  magnificent  stroke,  the  importance  and  financial 
prosperity  of  this,  the  capital  of  Poland,  would  be  se 
cured.  A  direct  and  thoroughly  serviceable  waterway 
connecting  us  with  the  ancient  and  wealthy  port  of 
Dantzic — that's  what  is  wanted.  There  are  boats  you 
would  say  now;  but  what  sort  of  boats?  If  you  want  to 
make  a  place  great,  let  the  sea  in." 

"But  you  can  do  nothing  in  the  face  of  disturbances 


84  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

such  as  are  in  progress  and  to  be  expected,"  insisted 
Sara,  now  absorbed  in  interest  and  admiration  of  him. 

"With  the  country  bristling  with  troops  and  the  peo 
ple  ready  to  leap  to  arms,  I  can  take  no  active  steps — 
that  is  so — it  would  be  madness,  but  I  can  make  prepa 
rations  ;  I  can  go  into  and  arrange  matters,  so  that  when 
the  time  is  ripe  there  will  be  no  delay.  If  we  would  reap, 
we  must  sow.  Ah!  if  I  were  only  living  in  a  country 
where  there  were  none  of  these  accursed  upheavals, 
what  headway  I  should  make,  how  I  should  progress 
by  leaps  and  bounds!" 

"But  you  have  done  so,"  she  exclaimed  enthusiastic 
ally. 

"What  I  have  done  is  nothing  to  what  I  will  do,"  he 
answered  proudly. 

Though  the  strong  personality  of  the  man,  the 
strength  of  old  associations,  the  toughness  and  durabil 
ity  of  old  ties,  had  caused  her  to  enter  into  and  interest 
herself  in  this  recital  of  his  bold  projects,  forgetting  her 
self  when  she  could,  the  cuts  and  thrusts  of  his  words 
were  all  the  sharper  for  the  hold  he  had  over  her.  Every 
hope  she  possessed  was  left  buried  beneath  what  he  had 
said.  He  was  to  be  greater  than  ever,  but  amidst  his 
triumphs  there  was  to  be  no  place  for  her;  she  was  to 
be  left  behind.  He  had  done  with  her,  as  he  had  done 
with  the  past.  And  he  was  doubtless  getting  everything 
in  readiness  to  put  her  from  him,  with  the  same  patience 
and  method  that  he  was  employing  in  the  steady  devel 
opment  of  his  vast  projects.  In  a  loud,  determined  voice, 
and  no  doubt  with  flashing  eyes  and  quivering  lips,  she 
herself  had  heard  him  say  so;  very  well — he  had  never 
given  her  cause  to  doubt  his  word.  So  to  her  it  seemed 
as  though  her  doom  was  fixed,  as  unalterably  as  the  fact 
that  she  must  die.  She  could  have  shrieked  in  her  agony 
as  this  idea  forced  itself  upon  her. 

With  his  chin  resting  upon  his  clenched  fists,  his  eyes 
regarding  space,  Hernani  was  indulging  in  thoughts  of 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  85 

a  very  different  kind.  Mixed  feelings  of  despair,  rage, 
and  jealousy  had  impelled  him  to  speak  of  himself.  He 
fully  intended  to  attempt  all  he  had  said,  but  he  meant 
to  lash  her  with  the  information.  He  was  not  exactly  a 
ninny,  and  just  then  he  took  a  savage  pleasure  in  letting 
her  know  it.  He  dilated  upon  the  number  of  successful 
undertakings  in  which  he  had  been  engaged  of  late. 
Everything  touched  by  him  had  turned  to  gold.  His 
good  luck  was  marvelous;  even  his  dreams  had  been 
surpassed.  If  he  told  her  all,  she  would  scarcely  credit 
him.  Channels  long  closed  had  opened  up  again,  and 
to  an  extent  there  had  been  no  reason  to  look  for.  In 
short,  money  had  simply  poured  into  his  coffers.  She 
had  thought  he  was  working  hard — ah!  but  it  had  been 
worth  it.  As  a  proof:  if  he  had  burnt  the  midnight 
oil,  amongst  a  number  of  other  charities,  he  had  been 
enabled  to  forward  five  thousand  rubles  to  the  society 
in  Cracow,  for  the  aid  of  their  poorer  co-religionists. 
Now  was  she  pleased?  And  having  fired  this  last  shot, 
made  this  last  crushing  allusion — as  she  understood  it 
—to  the  straitened  circumstances  in  which  he  had  found 
and  from  which  he  had  been  good  enough  to  extricate 
her,  he  left  her;  and  not  a  moment  too  soon,  for  had 
he  stayed  to  witness  the  effect  of  his  remarks,  her  de 
fensive  armor  would  have  failed  her,  and  her  tears  have 
flowed. 

As  it  was,  he  returned  to  his  bureau  as  usual,  and  she 
went  sobbing  to  her  room,  where  old  Riva  soon  found 
her  out. 

Sara  was  only  like  other  women;  she  was  being 
cruelly  treated— kicked,  in  her  opinion — yet  she  loved 
all  the  more. 

It  was  scarcely  possible  for  her  to  realize  fully  what 
had  happened;  whenever  she  seemed  to,  in  spite  of  her 
efforts  to  remain  calm  and  to  think,  she  could  only  weep 
afresh.  To  decide  upon  her  future  conduct  in  the  con 
dition  in  which  she  thus  found  herself,  was  altogether 


86  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

out  of  the  question.  Beyond  the  already  fixed  resolu 
tion  that  Hernani  must  know  nothing  of  her  feelings 
and  sufferings,  she  had  not  had  time  to  go.  With  star 
ing,  vacant  eyes,  she  lay  full  length,  her  ideas  flowing 
slowly  as  though  she  were  half  stunned,  and  through  the 
mists  of  weakness  could  neither  think  nor  see  with  clear 
ness.  Growing  stronger,  she  became  conscious  of 
where  she  was,  and  that  she  was  looking  about  her  as 
one  looks  upon  things  one  has  got  to  leave.  There 
were  curious  turns  and  twists  on  the  carved  ceilings, 
familiar  marks,  the  pattern  of  the  wall  paper,  counted 
and  studied  until  she  had  felt  dazed  and  had  had  to  close 
her  eyes  once  when  she  had  been  ill;  also  the  position 
and  character  of  the  different  articles  of  furniture  his 
taste  had  chosen  and  placed  there.  For  this  had  been 
one  of  his  first  ideas,  delicate,  and  a  delicious  proof  of  his 
affection;  everything  in  her  own  chamber,  everything 
she  wore,  as  near  as  could  be,  must  be  of  his  choosing. 
She  was  his  from  head  to  foot;  everything  around  and 
touching  her  must  be  his  also ;  then  the  delightful  sense 
of  possession  was  complete.  Exquisite  and  costly  trifles 
lay  thick  about  her.  One  by  one  he  had  given  them  to 
her,  discovering  them  by  degrees,  paying  fabulous  sums 
for  them  as  gems  of  their  kind,  and  each  one  had  its  lit 
tle  history,  treasured  and  complete,  and  was  indescriba 
bly  sweet  and  priceless  to  her.  What  would  become  of 
all  these  dear  toys?  Who  would  dust  and  polish,  finger 
and  delight  in  them,  as  she  had  done?  Assuredly  they 
must  all  be  left  behind,  said  farewell  to,  for  when  driven 
out,  when  told  that  he  no  longer  had  use  for  her,  she 
would  go,  as  she  had  come,  with  nothing.  She  would 
put  on  a  simple  black  dress,  and  not  a  ruble,  not  a  ring, 
would  she  take  with  her,  but  out  into  the  world  she  would 
go,  as  poor  as  she  had  been  when  he  had  asked  her  to  be 
his,  leaving  no  trace,  being  to  his  future  life  only  a  recol 
lection.  Well  for  her  now  had  her  father  been  alive — 
well  for  her,  but  not  for  him ;  and  at  this  thought  she  al- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  8? 

most  broke  down  afresh.  However,  if  she  had  no  one 
to  go  to,  no  one  who  would  stretch  out  a  hand  to  help 
her,  if  there  was  not  one  corner  in  the  great  cold  world 
where  she  would  have  the  right  to  rest,  perhaps  death 
would  seek  her  the  sooner.  There  was  always  dying 
room  to  be  found.  As  for  Hernani,  he  would  do  what 
he  had  said.  Clever  and  vigorous,  patient  and  persever 
ing,  he  would  climb  to  the  height  he  had  foretold.  He 
would  meet  with  the  recognition- his  abilities  merited,  he 
would  be  sought  after,  honored  and  admired,  far  more 
than  he  had  ever  been,  in  spite  of  being  a  Jew.  A  Jew 
— one  of  the  chosen  of  God.  Would  the  Gentiles  have 
possessed  their  crucified  Savior  but  for  a  Jew,  or  some 
other  chosen  instrument?  Should  they  be  reviled  and 
maltreated  then?  Could  logic  propose  and  religion  sup 
port  such  conduct?  Surely  not.  But  even  as  a  Jew, 
with  all  the  odds  against  him,  Hernani  would  work  as  he 
willed,  though  she  might  not  be  near  to  watch  or  hear  of 
him — might  never  know,  in  fact.  Ah!  someone — some 
one — oh!  maddening  thought,  someone  else,  another 
woman  would  be  about  him,  would  take  her  place,  the 
place  that  she  lived  but  to  fill.  This  being,  this  creature, 
would  look  into  his  eyes,  feel  his  touch,  hear  his  voice, 
council  him  and  share  his  triumphs  in  place  of  her. 
Every  fiber,  every  nerve,  tingled  and  rebelled  at  a  pros 
pect  endurable  only  had  she  loved  less — just  only — had 
she  been  false  to  her  vows.  Her  cup  of  bitterness  was 
full,  full  to  overflowing. 

"Yes,  he  will  put  me  from  him,"  she  moaned,  "because 
I  have  borne  him  no  children.  It  is  the  law,  as  Riva 
says,  and  he  will  have  it  of  me." 

And  downstairs,  Hernani  sat  and  smoked  and  thought. 
He  had  signed  some  letters  and  cheques,  and  then  had 
issued  orders  to  his  people  not  to  disturb  him,  the  after 
noon  being  still  young. 

Though  in  a  sense  irritated  at  his  own  weakness,  he 
felt  a  little  easier  since  he  had  told  Bloch,  and  was 


88  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

drowsy,  having  fed  well  and  taken  wine.  From  sheer 
weariness  and  familiarity  with  the  subject,  he  was  begin 
ning  to  think  that  divorce  was  really  the  only  way  out 
of  his  difficulties.  He  had  been  just  and  would  be  so, 
but  between  a  woman  beautiful  as  Sara,  and  a  man  like 
Hourko,  there  could  be  but  one  kind  of  intimacy,  and 
the  existence  of  that — such  an  accursed  stain  upon  his 
honor — could  be  remedied  in  but  one  way.  When  the 
time  came,  he  must  steel  his  heart  to  old  memories,  the 
feelings  that  were  knit  in  old  days ;  he  must  be  blind  to 
Sara's  beauty,  he  must  forget  what  her  kisses  were  like, 
since  they  were  not  for  him  alone;  and  though  he  could 
never  love  again,  as  he  had  loved,  and  God  help  him, 
did  love,  someone  else  must  fill  the  place  she  must  quit 
— someone  who,  perhaps,  might  prove  bearable,  when 
the  children  he  had  dreamt  of  came  and  dwelt  in  the 
heart  that  would  be  empty  and  waiting  for  them.  Per 
haps  he  might  live  through  it  all,  endure,  and  in  the  end 
replacing  the  passion  he  had  for  Sara,  a  nobler,  calmer, 
and  less  selfish  joy  might  spring  up,  enabling  him  to  die 
at  least  in  peace.  And  so,  thinking  these  things,  he 
slept  for  a  few  minutes,  yet  lightly  as  a  watch-dog  does, 
being  feverish  and  overwrought.  Roused  suddenly,  and 
as  soon  fully  awake,  the  dropping  crackle  of  musketry 
rang  in  his  ears. 

Sara  heard  it  too,  and  on  the  alert,  as  he  was,  heard  him 
quit  the  house,  saw  him  cross  the  square  in  haste,  and 
followed  as  swiftly  as  the  delay  in  putting  on  a  cloak 
would  permit.  There  was  no  need  to  doubt  which  way 
to  go.  The  detonations  again  reverberated  sharp  and 
harsh  above  the  dull  sullen  roar  of  the  people  in  anger 
and  in  their  thousands.  Hernani  had  disappeared,  and 
her  feet  flew  over  the  rough  stones  and  pavements  as 
she  pictured  him  in  peril,  exposing  himself  needlessly, 
courting  danger  even.  Ah!  if  it  could  but  be  her  lot  to 
save  him,  rescue  him,  at  risk  of  her  own  life,  he  might 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  89 

think  of  her  with  kindliness,  even  forgive  her  for  a  fail 
ing  that  was  not  her  fault. 

Many  a  time,  in  years  gone  by,  well-wishers  had  said 
to  her,  "May  the  Lord  bless  you  with  children,"  but  such 
expressions  of  good-will  had,  in  time,  become  rare,  and 
then  ceased  altogether.  It  was  better  so,  perhaps  they 
thought;  silence  saved  breath,  and,  though  significant, 
could  give  no  offense.  And  added  to  these  generous 
desires  for  her,  had  been  her  own  prayers,  and  they  too 
had  remained  unanswered.  Well,  would  he  forgive  her 
if  he  owed  his  life  to  her?  Fortune  might  favor  her,  the 
chance  might  come — who  could  say?  It  seemed  to  her 
that  she  could  never  again  tell  him  of  her  devotion  in 
words,  but  it  was  open  to  her  to  prove  it  in  acts.  All  her 
spleen,  her  sense  of  wrongs,  the  great  sorrow  that  had 
just  come  to  her,  vanished  before  these  generous  im 
pulses,  this  inextinguishable  love  of  hers,  as  chaff  before 
the  wind.  On  and  on  she  sped,  unconscious  of  fatigue, 
her  little  feet  keeping  pace  with  her  thoughts,  until  at 
length  she  burst  upon  a  scene  that,  she  was  never  likely 
to  forget. 

There  lay  the  cold  and  cheerless  faqade  of  the  Imperial 
Governor's  palace,  against  the  gloomy  walls  of  which  a 
sotnia  of  Cossacks  had  backed  their  lean  mounts,  so  as 
to  give  place  to  long  lines  of  infantrymen,  who  in  their 
mud-colored  uniforms  were  again  preparing  to  fire  upon 
the  vast  concourse  of  people,  who,  standing  and  kneel 
ing  without  arms,  exhorted  each  other  to  remain  firm; 
mothers,  fathers,  and  children,  clasping  each  other's 
hands,  and  with  eyes  cast  heavenward  wailing  forth  their 
national  hymn  or  prayer  for  liberty.  There  was  no  sign 
of  wavering,  no  thought  of  it,  and  at  sight  of  their  help 
lessness  and  courage,  the  stones  might  have  shed  tears, 
the  most  heartless  have  admired,  pitied,  and  shown 
mercy.  Attracted  by  the  dread  sounds,  ignorant  of  what 
fear  was,  new-comers,  flushed  and  breathless,  wedged 
themselves  into  the  already  compact  mass  of  defenseless 


90  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

beings,  while  overhead,  that  wondrous  and  silent  witness, 
the  sun,  in  saffron  streaks,  had  struggled  through  a 
dingy  shroud  of  flying  vapor,  coloring  the  savage  picture 
with  that  peculiar  and  beautiful  hue  which  the  great 
Dutch  painters  loved  so  well  to  copy.  Hourko  and  his 
aides-de-camp,  decorated,  brilliant;  the  stern,  meanly  - 
clad  infantrymen,  like  great  children,  rigid,  expression 
less,  obeying;  the  motionless  Cossacks,  grim  and  cruel 
as  the  whips  they  held  in  readiness:  the  crowd  of  all 
sizes,  castes,  and  conditions,  young  and  old,  poorly  and 
well  clad,  comely  and  plain,  menacing  and  despairing, — 
were  all  illumined  by  this  delicate,  clear-cutting  light,  to 
which  the  tall,  dark,  encircling  buildings  lent  a  solemn 
almost  weird  effect. 

With  a  half-suppressed  cry  of  joy  Sara  descried  Her- 
nani,  and  with  an  exclamation  of  horror  he  saw  and 
forced  his  way  towards  her.  Sara — his  wife,  exposed  to 
the  Russian  rifle  fire!  At  that  instant  he  understood  how 
much  he  loved  her. 

"God  of  Israel,  you  here!"  he  exclaimed,  when  at 
length  he  had  his  hands  upon  her  shoulders,  his  body 
between  her  and  harm. 

"And  you?"  she  inquired,  as  calm  now  that  she  had 
found  him,  as  though  they  had  met  at  a  bataille  des 
fleurs.  She  had  come  there  to  be  near  at  hand,  to  give  her 
life  for  his,  if  necessary;  she  might  have  arrived  to  buy 
some  bon-bons  or  a  few  bunches  of  violets.  His  an 
swering  words  died  upon  his  tongue,  as  a  stern  command 
produced  a  clicking  of  rifle  locks,  then  a  withering  vol 
ley.  Into  the  vault  of  heaven,  away  amidst  the  ^ \vift 
drifting  scud,  rolled  the  groans  of  the  wounded  and  dy 
ing,  the  sobs  of  the  bereaved,  the  shouts  and  execra 
tions  of  the  thinned  and  exasperated  mob,  while  amidst 
the  infernal  din,  like  mere  machines,  the  second  rank 
stepped  forward  to  collect  the  dead  and  maimed,  who 
were  to  be  seen  plainly  enough,  after  the  smoke  had 
cleared  away,  pallid,  bloodstained,  and  leaden-looking 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  91 

past  rough  human  aid.  Sara,  in  swift,  agonized  glances 
cast  over  and  between  the  bowed  and  kneeling  forms, 
saw  enough  of  all  this  to  make  her  turn  away  sick  and 
dizzy.  Boiling  with  anger  and  hatred  of  the  act,  and  in 
despair  because  of  the  risk  she  ran,  Hernani  caught  her 
in  his  arms  and  strove  by  sheer  strength  to  bear  her  clear 
of  the  throng.  It  was  a  useless  attempt,  one  that  the 
people  were  in  no  mood  for;  they  wrould  stay  where 
they  were,  die  where  they  were,  no  one  should  go,  as 
their  clasped  hands  testified.  Summoned  to  disperse — 
why  should  they?  They  had  a  right  to  make  their  griev 
ances  known,  a  right  beneath  God's  sky,  and  in  the  face 
of  day  to  pray  and  sing  for  the  recovery  of  their  lost 
liberty.  And  again  came  the  rattle  of  arms,  the  brief, 
sharp  orders,  the  echoing  volleys,  the  groans  and  shrieks 
and  curses,  finally  the  scream  of  Sara,  as  a  huge  Pole 
with  a  fur  cap  fell  doubled  up  over  those  about  him,  be 
spattering  them  with  blood.  Hernani  was  as  tall  as  this 
man,  was  her  first  thought.  He  would  be  shot  too.  In 
an  agony  of  fear  and  on  her  knees,  she  implored  him  to 
kneel  as  she  was  doing.  To  see  her  so  hurt  him;  she 
was  so  pale,  with  the  fear  of  death  upon  her  face,  for  his 
sake  as  it  seemed.  He  would  have  liked  to  do  as  she 
wished,  but  the  thing  was  impossible.  What — because 
these  people  amused  themselves  with  shooting  unarmed 
men  and  women  in  cold  blood — was  he  to  bend  as  he 
only  bent  to  his  God?  Surely  not,  and  bullets  of  such 
firing  would  do  him  no  harm.  So  he  set  his  broad  back 
to  the  pealing  volleys  and  shrugged  his  shoulders  con 
temptuously  as  the  bullets  whistled  about  him,  the  light 
of  battle  in  his  eyes  the  while,  and  his  strong  hands 
clenched  with  the  wrath  he  suppressed.  The  old  days 
were  back  upon  him,  days  when  the  hot  blood  had 
rushed  through  his  body,  every  fiber  in  him  tingling  with 
health  and  vigor,  when  his  life  would  have  been  lost  but 
for  straight  shooting,  coolness  and  pluck;  the  desert 
sun  overhead,  the  crisp  invigorating  air  of  the  desert  in 


92  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

his  nostrils.  Ah!  how  his  fingers  itched  to  grasp  a  rifle 
again. 

In  glorious  freedom,  and  as  if  in  mockery  of  his  fierce 
reflections,  some  pigeons,  scared  by  the  firing,  whirled 
and  circled  above  him  with  sun-gilt  flashing  wings,  and 
Sara,  fascinated  into  staring  at  his  angry  face,  became 
conscious  of  their  presence,  and  wondered  for  a  second 
how  she  could  notice  such  an  insignificant  thing  as  a 
pigeon,  at  such  a  moment. 

At  length,  sick  of  the  storm  of  lead,  the  nauseous  odor 
of  powder,  the  crowd  broke  and  s\vept  out  of  the  square, 
carrying  Sara,  with  Hernani's  arms  about  her,  with  it. 

When  they  were  at  home  again,  safe  and  glad  to  be 
there,  and  she  had  recovered  in  a  measure  from  the 
fright  and  fatigue  of  it  all,  he  said  to  her — 

"Why  did  you  come?" 

"And  you?"  she  again  murmured,  pale  and  troubled- 
looking  where  she  lay  amongst  some  cushions. 

"I — I  knew  what  they  were  at,  what  I  should  see,  but 
I  was  curious  to — 

"So  was  I,"  she  answered  eagerly,  preferring  that  he 
should  deem  her  guilty  of  curiosity  rather  than  of  love. 

"But  you — you  have  no  right.  Look  at  the  figure 
you  cut,  tearing  through  the  street.  What  would  peo 
ple  think?" 

"I  have  no  interest  in  knowing.  What  are  people  to 
me?  Were  they  of  use  when  I  was  poor  in  Cracow?  Had 
I  been  seen  tearing  through  the  streets,  as  you  phrase  it, 
then,  would  it  have  mattered — and  why  should  it  matter 
now,  since  I  might  starve  again  to-day  for  aught  they — 
people — would  care?  The  right,  the  luxury  of  freedom, 
is  worth  more  than  public  opinion." 

He  agreed  with  her;  but  she  disputed  with  him  so 
seldom,  and  that  afternoon  he  had  resisted  the  tempta 
tion  to  shriek  in  her  ear,  "Your  lover,  that  d d  Hour- 

ko — why  doesn't  he  stop  the  firing?  You  are  here;  isn't 
that  enough?" 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  93 

"There  is  no  question  of  being  poor  or  of  starving," 
he  continued  haughtily,  remembering  the  desire  he  had 
crushed. 

"Not  to-day,  that  is  true,  but  to-morrow  there  may 
be,"  she  said  bitterly. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Sara?"  She  had  never 
spoken  so  strangely  before.  "You  are  never  to  run  such 
a  risk  again.  Remember,  I  forbid  it.  What  I  do,  is  one 
thing;  what  you  do,  another." 

"Who  cares  what  I  do?"  she  had  it  on  her  tongue  to 
say,  petulant  and  weak,  and  having  suffered  enough  in 
one  day  to  last  for  a  life;  but  by  closing  her  eyes  she  hid 
the  tears  that  filled  them  and  only  murmured  wearily — 

"I  am  overdone,  very  tired,  that  is  all.  I  will  do  as 
you  wish." 

It  seemed  her  lot  to  be  corrected,  misunderstood  and 
ill-treated.  From  his  lips  she  had  heard  words  that  were 
to  her  the  most  brutal  he  could  ever  speak;  yet  she  had 
forgotten  them  at  the  first  sound  of  danger  to  him,  and 
here  he  was  chiding  her.  She  had  admired  him  more 
than  ever,  if  that  were  possible,  as  she  had  crouched  at 
his  feet  imploring  him  to  stoop.  Was  he  not  the  youth 
ful  image  of  what  a  stately  patriarch  must  have  been  in 
the  old  days;  that  great,  splendid  looking  fellow,  with 
his  deep,  wonderful  eyes,  his  fine  bronzed  features  and 
dark  curling  moustache?  Again,  he  had  been  to  her  the 
handsome  traveler,  enshrined  in  romance;  the  mysterious 
Croesus  of  the  little  hovel  in  Cracow.  Was  there  any 
thing  he  could  not  do? — smile  with  the  bullets  whistling 
about  him,  handle  her  like  a  child  and  protect  her  with 
his  own  body.  Could  she  evtr  forget  the  beautiful  light 
in  his  face  as  he  had  snatched  up  a  little  one  who  would 
have  been  trampled  under  foot,  and  held  it  tenderly  in 
his  arms,  though  its  face  was  unwashed  and  its  feet  dirty, 
relinquishing  it  only  when  a  place  of  safety  seemed 
gained. 

Then,  too,  was  it  not  wonderful  to  contemplate  this 


94  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

success  of  his  as  a  financier?  The  most  intricate  business 
problems  were  clear  to  him.  He  had  only  to  think,  to 
understand.  And  not  content  with  the  ordinary  meth 
ods  by  which  wealth  was  attainable,  he  imagined,  in 
vented  and  speculated,  always  with  the  same  penetrative 
and  unerring  judgment,  the  same  result — success.  And 
after  she  had  dwelt  upon  all  these  perfections,  these  ad 
mirable  qualities,  to  her  mind,  another  gift  remained  to 
him  which  perfected  them  all  and  was  above  price — the 
blessing  of  the  Eternal,  which  was  with  him  in  his  going 
and  coming,  an  ornament  about  his  neck,  an  amulet  in 
the  face  of  danger. 

The  good  he  did,  too,  would  live  after  him,  for  to  help 
those  who  were  past  helping  themselves,  the  desolate 
and  unfortunate,  the  sick  and  starving,  was  a  pleasure  in 
his  life  which  grew  and  flourished  and  which  he  had 
taken  in  exchange  for  that  common  error  men  make — 
heaping  riches  on  themselves.  Was  it  to  be  wondered 
at,  then,  that  she  adored  him,  and  that  in  consequence 
the  fiat  she  had  heard  him  pronounce  assailed  her  with 
the  more  crushing  force?  On  the  evidence  of  his  own 
lips,  she  was  to  lose  him  who  was  to  her  so  admirable, 
so  well  worth  loving,  and  to  whom  she  had  dedicated  the 
beauty  and  freshness  of  her  girlish  years.  How  could  a 
heavier  blow  have  been  dealt  her,  and  how  was  she  to  en 
dure  the  effect  of  it  and  retain  her  reason? 

With  half-closed  eyes,  she  reclined  amongst  her  cush 
ions  and  watched  him  as  he  paced  the  room,  apparently 
a  prey  to  excitement  produced  by  the  bloodshed  he  had 
witnessed.  But  for  this  home  trouble  that  had  come 
upon  her,  she  would  have  felt  the  same,  her  mind  would 
have  been  full  of  the  cruelty  and  horrors  she  had  been 
compelled  to  see,  but  the  actual  destruction  of  others, 
shrank  into  insignificance  beside  the  loom  of  the  shadow 
which  threatened  destruction  to  herself.  It  was  selfish 
of  her,  and  she  would  have  liked  to  have  been  good  and 
great  enough  to  forget  her  own  woe  in  the  sufferings  of 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  95 

others.  But  after  all  she  was  only  human,  intensely  so; 
a  woman,  weak,  and  with  her  heart  full  of  the  keenest 
longing  for  love  and  sympathy.  Perhaps  he  was  a  little 
like  her,  and  the  distress  she  saw  in  his  face  was  not  en 
tirely  due  to  the  inhuman  acts  he  had  been  helpless  to 
prevent.  There  was  at  least  one  circumstance  that 
pointed  to  it.  When  he  had  found  her  in  danger,  he  had 
made  no  secret  of  his  distress  and  anxiety.  If  he  felt  as 
he  had  looked  then,  how  could  he  turn  his  back  upon  her 
in  cold  blood,  thrust  her  from  him  without  one  crime  to 
record  against  her?  Surely  in  the  depths  of  his  heart 
some  of  the  love  she  had  inspired  must  still  linger.  Ah ! 
if  but  a  chance  of  retaining  him  remained  to  her,  how 
well  she  would  do  battle.  How  surely  she  would  win 
with  this  great  love  nerving  and  strengthening  her. 
But  the  dead  weight  of  doubt  soon  crept  in  upon  the 
thought,  knocking  the  life  out  of  it,  leaving  her  with  head 
propped  up,  swaying  and  splitting  where  she  lay. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  she  demanded,  when  the 
desire  to  speak  had  grown  too  strong  to  resist. 

"Thinking — er — I?"  he  stammered,  startled  into  him 
self  by  the  directness  of  the  question.  Then  more  col 
lectedly,  "Has  to-day  brought  nothing  fresh  to  think 
about?" 

"It  has  brought  too  much,"  she  answered  simply  and 
solemnly. 

"You  ought  never  to  have  been  there,"  he  retorted, 
the  real  meaning  of  her  words  conveying  nothing  to  him. 
"Such  blood-curdling  sights  are  not  for  women.  Why 
ever  did  you  come?  Had  I  dreamt  that  you  would  leave 
the  house,  I  would  have  warned  you.  It  was  bad  enough 
for  me,  to  whom  death  is  not  unfamiliar — but  you — you 
will  dream  of  it,  you  will  never  get  it  out  of  your  head. 
My  poor  girl,  I  am  sorry.  And  yet,  perhaps,  it  is  as 
well ;  a  baptism  of  some  kind  could  not  have  been  avert 
ed  for  long,  for  such  fine  doings  will  be  thick  upon  the 
ground  presently,  and  you  may  as  well  begin  to  harden 


96  HERNANI  THE  JEW 

your  heart  now  as  later.  It  only  shows  what  one  has 
got  to  look  forward  to,  and  increases  one's  respect  for 
and  confidence  in  the  authorities.  But  what  is  one  to  do? 
There  will  be  no  peace  in  this  accursed  city  very  shortly, 
and  for  myself,  I  have  the  sensation  of  being  caught  in 
a  trap  from  wnich  I  shall  not  be  freed,  until  1  have  paid 
and  suffered  to  the  utmost.  There  will  be  no  mercy 
shown  me,  you  may  be  sure.  I  begin  to  feel  as  though 
time  and  money  would  be  well  spent  in  organizing  and 
arming  a  few  brave  fellows,  if  only  to  avenge  those  who 
have  been  murdered  in  cold  blood.  Besides,  is  one  to 
sit  still  and  await  one's  turn,  without  making  an  attempt 
in  self-defense,  thankful  if  one  escapes  butchering?  I 
tell  you,  my  patience  is  becoming  exhausted.  Aware 
that  life  and  property  may  be  lost  any  day,  I  should  like, 
at  least,  to  have  a  fight  for  them.  As  I  live,  they  will 
want  money  ere  long,  and  then  the  usual  proceedings  will 
take  place — a  raid  will  be  made  and  the  wealthiest  of  us 
will  be  robbed.  Did  you  see  Hourko  rigged  out  in  his 
best?  He  should  have  whetted  his  appetite  for  dinner, 
but  may  it  choke  him,  the  villain!" 

Narrowly  though  he  watched  her,  he  got  nothing  for 
his  pains.  Her  innocence  was  her  safeguard. 

"Is  General  Hourko  responsible  for  what  has  oc 
curred?"  she  asked  quietly,  and  without  even  so  much 
as  lifting  her  head  to  look  at  him. 

"Responsible?  Of  course  he  is.  He  is  empowered  to 
act  as  he  thinks  proper.  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that.  I 
dare  hold  the  Tsar  is  practically  blameless  in  the  matter. 
Deceived  by  the  unscrupulousness  of  his  ministers  and 
advisers,  he  never  knows  more  than  it  suits  their  policy 
to  tell  him.  He  is  fenced  about  by  machinations,  and, 
thinking  he  pulls  the  strings,  looks  on  while  they  are 
pulled  for  him.  Hourko? — I  should  think  he  is  to 
blame!" 

"Then  he  will  be  punished  sooner  or  later,"  she  an 
swered  wearily. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  97 

It  disappointed  her  to  find  him  full  of  the  day's  doings 
and  apparently  without  thought  of  her.  He  could  speak 
as  she  had  heard  him  do  to  Hermann  Bloch,  and  yet 
keep  his  mind  clear  to  talk  glibly  on  whatever  topic 
turned  uppermost.  She  could  hear  him  thundering 
forth,  "Any  day  I  may  have  to  divorce  my  wife,"  and 
the  words  buzzed  in  her  ears  as  it  seemed  to  her  they 
would  do  till  she  died;  yet,  apparently,  how  little  he  was 
affected  by  them,  or  rather  what  had  called  them  forth. 
Could  he  care  for  her  then — did  the  dregs  of  his  love  for 
her  still  remain?  The  question  died  upon  her  tongue; 
she  was  without  strength  to  answer  it.  To  her,  at  that 
moment,  there  seemed  to  be  a  great  contrast  between 
them ;  he  was  so  strong  and  vigorous,  with  the  hue  of 
health  in  his  cheek,  the  fire  of  energy  in  his  eyes,  and  she 
was  weak  and  weary — tired — oh!  how  terribly  so. 
"Well  for  me  if  I  could  die  now,"  she  whispered  to  her 
self,  her  eyes  still  closed  and  hot  with  tears — "he  has 
done  with  me,  and  I  would  have  done  with  life." 

And  with  Riva  about  her,  touching  her  tenderly,  she 
said  to  her,  "Riva,  but  for  the  sin  of  it,  I  would  not  live 
beyond  to-night." 


98  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Youth  and  hope,  sleep,  awakening  to  the  springtime, 
revivified,  again  inspired — how  comforting!  Plunged  in 
despair  one  day,  but  cheered  and  strengthened  another, 
Sara  watched  and  waited  and  fought  to  keep  what 
seemed  to  her — all — her  husband.  Glad  of  anything  that 
gained  her  time,  she  no  longer  discouraged  the  interest 
he  felt  in  the  insurrectionary  movement.  Rather  than 
that  he  should  think  of  and  plot  against  her,  she  had  best 
fill  his  mind  with  it.  Evidently  his  schemes  were  not 
enough  to  satisfy  his  voracious  appetite  for  work  and 
excitement;  besides,  they  must  hang  fire,  remain  in 
abeyance,  as  things  were.  Hitherto  she  had  done  her 
utmost  to  restrain  'his  ardent  patriotism,  but  since  he 
would  not  be  permitted  to  stand  still,  and  according  to 
his  own  showing  must  be  drawn  into  the  vortex  created 
by  the  great  movement,  she  would  no  longer  be  a  wet 
blanket.  Where  was  the  use?  It  would  be  better  for 
her  if  his  mind  ran  on  fighting  and  freedom  rather  than 
on  her  and  the  children  her  existence  denied  him.  Yet 
again,  she  felt  that  if  by  her  counsel  or  even  neutrality, 
ill  befell  him,  she  would  be  unable  to  forgive  herself,  and 
would  be  in  a  worse  plight  than  ever.  She  was  thus 
between  two  fires.  And  never  in  her  life  had  she  ex 
perienced  anything  approaching  the  restlessness  and  in 
decision,  the  unhappy  vacillation  and  despair  she  was 
now  a  prey  to.  At  one  moment  she  was  for  facing  it 
out,  trusting  to  what  might  be  the  remnants  of  her  in 
fluence,  but  what,  since  she  was  still  with  him,  must 
amount  to  influence,  also  to  time  and  the  secrets  hidden 
in  the  morrow.  At  another,  she  could  scarcely  con 
tinue  to  remain  beneath  the  same  roof.  Anything  rather 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  ,  99 

than  this  frightful  uncertainty,  this  crushing  weight 
which  his  words  had  suspended  over  her  head,  and  which 
might  fall  upon  her  when  least  expected.  The  indignity 
also  of  being  told  to  go,  would  be  agonizing.  What  an 
insupportable  affront!  The  contemplation  of  it,  from 
which  she  could  seldom  free  herself,  seemed  to  turn  her 
sick,  to  take  her  breath  away.  She  watched  him,  too,  so 
closely,  and  weighed  his  words  with  a  mind  so  com 
pletely  impregnated  with  doubt  and  suspicion,  that  when 
ever  they  met,  she  fancied  she  had  discovered  some  new 
phase  or  development  of  the  situation.  There  remained 
no  rest  for  her,  and  to  succumb,  to  die,  or  disappear, 
was  apparently  the  only  solution,  the  final  termination. 
When  he  was  not  with  her,  when  out  of  her  sight,  she 
was  racked  with  doubts  and  dread  of  what  was  happen 
ing,  what  he  was  doing  or  thinking;  and  when  they  were 
shut  up  together,  her  nerves  were  excited  and  strained 
to  such  a  pitch,  that  her  control  over  herself  threatened 
to  fail  her.  Nevertheless,  she  went  into  the  fresh  air 
more,  now  that  the  flowers  were  fresh  and  blooming, 
the  trees  displaying  their  most  refreshing  and  attractive 
garb. 

With  an  immense  effort  to  become  philosophical,  she 
endeavored  to  live  for  the  day,  for  the  hour.  Her  love 
of  nature  was  profound,  and  she  took  a  melancholy  de 
light  in  burying  herself  amongst  the  trees,  away  from 
everything  that  could  be  harsh  or  unkind,  and  where  at 
least  no  sound  came  to  her  except  that  of  the  birds  she 
loved  so  well,  who  seemed  to  be  her  friends,  the  only 
ones  she  had.  Of  General  Hourko  she  had  lost  count, 
though  he  had  assailed  her  again  upon  the  old  pretext — 
her  charity  and  pity  for  those  of  her  race  less  fortunate 
than  herself. 

On  his  part,  Hourko  certainly  had  her  fresh  in  his 
mind.  While  she  was  endeavoring  to  cope  with  the  woe 
that  threatened  to  engulf  her,  he  was  in  the  old  palace  of 
the  Polish  kings,  immersed  in  business,  besieged  with 


100  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

dissatisfied  dispatches  from  St.  Petersburg.  They  were 
calling  his  policy  in  question,  even  censuring  it.  In 
undated  by  instructions,  in  dread  of  being  ignominiously 
recalled,  he  could  still  quietly  remark — 

"This  Jewess  will  not  bite,  eh,  Popoloff?  The  avowed 
interest  in  Judaism  won't  do.  We  must  think  of  some 
better  bait." 

"Excellency,  you  will  have  more  time  when -" 

"Anyone  else  would  be  dismissed,  Popoloff,  for  talk 
ing  about  time.  How  often  am  I  to  remind  you  that  I 
am  not  a  slave?  Won't  once  do?  I  am  sick  of  the  sight 
of  papers,  each  with  a  fresh  string  of  suggestions,  the 
last  of  which  always  proves  more  useless  than  the  first. 
There  is  nothing  tangible,  nothing  substantial  about 
these  accursed  Poles — that's  what  it  amounts  to.  I  should 
like  to  hunt  them  out  of  their  filthy  dens,  where  they  are 
knee-deep  in  plotting  impossibilities,  into  the  light  of 
day,  supply  them  with  arms,  and  then,  as  a  soldier,  I 
could  deal  with  them.  Fighting  with  conspirators  such 
as  they  are,  is  to  me,  what  fighting  with  something  in 
visible  would  be  to  any  man.  I  am  sick  of  it — just  in 
that  condition,  in  fact,  when  a  pretty  face  would  be  a 
relief;  and  was  there  ever  a  man  who  liked  one,  cooped 
up  and  harassed  as  I  am?  All  the  same,  I  am  not  going 
to  give  up  my  Jewess.  Who  would,  once  they  had  seen 
her?  This  banker  fellow  is  just  the  right  man  to  find  his 
way  to  Siberia,  and  then,  in  a  gilded  prison  such  as  I 
could  provide  her  with,  my  beautiful  Sara  would  thrive 
and  delight  me.  That's  what  it  will  come  to,  eh,  Popo 
loff?  But  not  yet — the  time  is  hardly  ripe.  Have  you 
had  news  from  the  palace  this  Hernani  maintains?" 

"Some  of  the  money  that  is  being  steadily  collected  by 
the  chiefs  of  the  insurrectionary  movement  has  already 
been  supplied  by  him,  sir." 

"Ah!     How  do  you  know  that?" 

"Excellency — as  I  know  everything,"  answered  Popo 
loff,  with  some  show  of  pride,  and  the  shadow  of  a  grim 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  IOI 

smile  upon  his  inscrutable  face.  "He  has  already  been 
guilty  of  that  and  of  assault." 

"Good;  then  we  can  arrest ' 

"Anyone,  Excellency." 

"True,  but  I  question;  he  is  very  rich  and  a  leader 
amongst  them — one  of  their  head  men.  No,  we  will 
wait.  Have  you  heard  anything  more?" 

"The  relations  between  Kasimir  and  his  wife  are  less 
satisfactory,  though  the  reason  is  unknown." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  this  information  about  his  monetary 
dealings  is  really  important.  His  immense  wealth  at  the 
disposal  of  these  traitors  to  his  Imperial  Majesty  makes 
a  dangerous  combination." 

"His  wings  will  need  clipping." 

"They  will,  sir." 

"But  at  present  we  must  be  patient.  Have  you  issued 
my  instructions  to  the  officers?" 

"Yes,  Excellency." 

"Then  there  can  be  no  excuse  for  brawls  of  any  kind. 
What  fresh  signs  are  there?  How  are  the  streets  look 
ing?  I  must  take  a  drive  for  the  sake  of  some  air." 

"The  streets  are  as  usual,  sir.  No  new  symptoms. 
The  women  clad  as  for  a  funeral,  the  men  ready  for  a 
wedding.  The  fools,  to  be  strutting  about  like  so  many 
peacocks!  Colonel  Woronzow  was  insulted  by  one  of 
them  in  a  cafe  this  very  morning,  the  young  jackanapes 
who  was  guilty  of  the  affront,  displaying  what  he  would 
be  pleased  to  call  the  national  dress,  which,  as  you  know, 
is  as  bright  as  that  of  our  Circassians.  Top  boots,  em 
broidered  shirt,  and  red  fur-brimmed  hat — nothing  short 
of  it.  The  numbers  who  take  to  this  absurd  attire,  ap 
pear  to  increase  every  day,  making  the  general  mourn 
ing  of  the  women  more  noticeable." 

"Yes,  I  know — I  have  remarked  that.  But  how  did 
Colonel  Woronzow  act?" 

"He  was  patient  under  the  insult,  sir." 


102  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"I  am  glad  of  that.  The  names  of  those  officers  or  men 
who  are  not  so,  under  such  annoyances,  must  be  report 
ed  to  me.  I  have  strict  injunctions  to  avoid  more  blood 
shed  or  disturbances,  though  such  leniency  will  only  fos 
ter  arrogance  and  produce  dissension.  The  rifle  and  the 
knout  are  what  is  required.  Any  reports  from  the  prov 
inces?" 

"Excellency,  the  provinces  record  no  fresh  outrages 
or  disturbances;  the  rule  of  our  Holy  Father  the  Tsar 
is  maintained  in  unbroken  quiet.  The  peasants,  one  and 
all,  know  which  side  their  bread  is  buttered.  They  have 
been  well  counseled  and  will  obey,  as  good  subjects 
should." 

"That  is  gratifying." 

"Most  gratifying,  sir." 

"If  they  observe  that  attitude,  there  will  be  nothing 
worth  calling  A  rebellion." 

"They  will  do  as  they  are  told,  Excellency.  They  are 
so  simple  and  ignorant,  as  you  know — just  like  over 
grown  children;  and  it  is  only  necessary  to  remind  them 
of  the  tyranny  their  Polish  masters  practiced,  of  their 
indifference  to  their  sufferings,  of  the  way  in  which  they 
enslaved  and  used  them  as  beasts  of  burden — to  rouse 
them  to  fury  and  knit  them  to  us." 

"And  has  this  been  done  thoroughly?" 

"Thoroughly,  sir.  And  our  judiciously-selected  emis 
saries  are  devoted  in  their  endeavors  to  instil  into  them 
an  exact  idea  of  their  position.  They  are  unwearyingly 
reminded  not  to  anger  the  Tsar,  of  the  submission  they 
owe  to  him  as  the  head  of  the  kingdom,  and  on  account 
of  his  tender  solicitude  for  them.  The  treacherous  char 
acter  of  the  Polish  nobility,  and  the  hollowness  of  the 
promises  they  make,  are  duly  set  forth,  and  they  are  ex 
horted  to  stand  firm  for  the  sake  of  their  own  interests." 

Hourko  smiled  grimly. 

"In  short,  the  work  is  being  done  well,"  he  exclaimed. 

"I  trust  so,  your  Excellency.  Every  day  my  labor  in 
creases.  I  have  spies  in  every  hamlet,  village  and  town, 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  103 

and  so  great  is  the  correspondence  and  intricate  the  de 
tail,  that,  mindful  of  your  permission,  the  large  staff  of 
officials  and  clerks  has  been  increased.  Soon  there  shall 
not  be  a  single  family  of  any  consequence  of  whose  most 
private  actions  I  am  in  ignorance,  and  when  the  time 
comes,  what  power  must  remain  on  the  side  of  law  and 
order,  in  consequence  of  such  important  information! 
They  will  not  know  us,  but  we  shall  know  them." 

"Yes,  yes — you  are  wonderful — an  enthusiast,  Popo- 
loff,"  answered  Hourko,  with  a  look  of  weariness  upon 
his  face,  as  though,  despite  his  interest,  something  new 
would  please  him  better. 

Considered  apart  from  Popoloff's  ideas  and  schemes, 
the  fact  remained  that  there  was  nothing  of  the  diplomat 
ist  about  Ivan  Nicholaevitch.  Intrigue  and  detail,  fine 
shades  of  thought,  of  feeling,  or  of  policy,  were  never 
conceived  or  understood  by  him.  In  his  opinion,  there 
were  only  two  things  fit  for  a  soldier  to  do — to  fight  and 
make  love.  He  was  brave,  some  said  brutal,  and  he 
liked  to  come  to  downright  blows,  or,  if  there  were  none 
to  be  exchanged,  console  himself  with  what,  in  his  opin 
ion,  he  could  well  appreciate — a  fair  form  and  face. 
Women  and  the  peasants  might  be  considered  in  the 
same  breath.  The  peasants  were  meant  to  be  ignorant, 
to  remain  ignorant,  that  they  might  till  the  land  and 
minister  to  the  needs  of  those  who  were  not  so.  And 
women — well,  women  in  the  concrete  were  a  shade  bet 
ter  than  the  peasants,  but  the  end  for  which  they  were 
created  was  the  same:  to  crown  with  comfort  and  de 
light  the  existences  of  those  superior  beings — men — the 
lords  of  the  soil.  For  virtue  he  entertained  respect  and 
admiration  in  the  dim  recesses  of  his  mind.  But  then, 
could  virtue  be  found?  Certainly  his  wife  had  never  de 
ceived  him  to  his  knowledge,  but  then  his  wife  was  such 
a  fearfully  attenuated  specimen  of  humanity,  and  where 
there  was  no  desire  or  temptation,  there  could  be  no  vir 
tue.  There  had  been  a  time  when  he  was  savage  in  his 


104  HERN  AN  I  THE  JEW. 

hatred  of  a  lie,  but  that  time  had  never  outlived  his  ca 
det's  uniform.  Some  sorts  of  lies  were  of  the  first  neces 
sity,  though  it  was  a  pity,  and  truth  was  best,  though 
dull,  and  only  endurable  at  certain  seasons. 

For  instance,  Popoloff  was  so  conscientiously  truthful 
in  the  way  in  which  he  bored  him  with  a  lot  of  things  he 
might  just  as  well  have  kept  to  himself.  It  was  a  pity, 
too,  that  he  was  so  ugly  and  not  the  least  little  bit  of  a 
roue.  It  was  so  odd  for  a  man  to  have  a  mind  like  iron, 
to  possess  a  perfect  memory,  and  to  work,  work,  work 
always,  never  seeming  to  remember  that  a  little  relaxa 
tion,  a  little  amusement  in  the  shape  of  feminine  society, 
would  be  consoling  as  well  as  refreshing.  But  then  ex 
perience  might  have  taught  Popoloff  that  the  fair  sex 
would  have  none  of  him,  and,  after  all,  he  was  invaluable. 

"Popoloff,  you  should  marry,"  he  suddenly  remarked, 
surveying  that  strange  personage  with  a  half  ironical, 
half  comical  grin,  fancying  the  while  that  the  man  seemed 
even  longer  and  thinner,  more  cadaverous  and  more 
knock-kneed  than  he  had  thought  he  was.  Without  a 
word  in  answer,  feigning  deafness  to  perfection,  Popo 
loff  gravely  submitted  some  papers  for  his  chief's  signa 
ture,  and  when  it  had  been  affixed  in  the  usual  sprawling 
hand,  and  Popoloff  was  going  off  limping  on  his  heels, 
Hourko  added — 

"You  are  cut  out  for  a  chief  of  police ;  you  might  emu 
late  the  'deeds  of  a  Fouche,  but  to  follow  Benedict's  lead 
is  not  in  your  line,  eh?" 

Popoloff  brightened. 

"That's  it,  Excellency." 

"Oh!   you  heard,  you  dog." 

"Yes,  sir;  but  these  important  dispatches  and — and 
many  things  being  on  my  mind,  diverted  my  attention." 

That  Popoloff  was  unscrupulous  there  could  be  no 
doubt,  otherwise  he  would  not  have  remained  a  day  in 
the  position  he  occupied.  It  was  something  for  the  ob 
scure  tchinovnik  to  be  patronized  by  Madam ;  so  he  had 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  105 

readily  adapted  himself  to  the  situation  into  which  he 
had  slid — that  of  the  master's  trusted  servant  and  the 
wife's  confidential  spy.  He  had  to  please  them  both  if 
he  meant  to  remain  where  he  was.  And  Popoloff,  it  so 
happened,  was  ambitious  of  climbing  high,  the  road  to 
this  great  end  apparently  being  much  like  Hourko's,  a 
blind  belief  in  the  orthodox  faith  and  in  his  Imperial 
Majesty  the  Tsar.  Clad  in  such  sound  and  shining  ar 
mor,  it  only  remained  for  him  to  come  to  the  front,  to 
distinguish  himself;  and  here  again  the  way  seemed 
clear.  Jewish  troubles  loomed  ahead  as  well  as  Polish 
ones,  and  deep  down  in  his  heart  there  was  hidden  the 
desire  to  become  a  great  Jewish  scourge.  The  ripening 
insurrectionary  movement  was  only  the  looked-for  op 
portunity  which  would  enable  him  to  attract  the  Emper 
or's  notice.  His  ability  would  insure  this  success  for  him, 
and  this  once  done,  there  would  be  no  limit  to  his  ends 
and  aspirations.  It  followed  therefore,  that  in  a  degree 
he  discountenanced  Hourko's  attitude  towards  Sara. 
Though  again  it  might  be  the  means  to  an  end.  She  was 
one  of  the  accursed  race,  by  his  desire  to  exterminate 
which  he  was  to  obtain  consideration  in  high  places,  and 
in  addition,  wealth,  which  to  him  meant  everything,  ava 
rice  being  his  crowning  vice. 

The  position  he  had  assumed  meanwhile  was  that  of 
watching  and  a  waiting  events.  Perhaps  the  lynx-eyed 
and  jealous  Madam  Hourko  might  become  exasperated, 
and  he  might  quietly  lend  her  a  hand  in  exterminating 
the  whole  Hernani  brood,  for  his  hatred  of  Jewish  blood 
was  so  inveterate,  that  instead  of  Sara's  beauty  produc 
ing  admiration,  or  assuaging  his  feelings  in  the  very 
least,  he  would  have  had  her  stripped  in  the  market 
place,  and  flogged  through  the  streets  in  the  light  of  day, 
before  a  sea  of  eyes. 

With  these  rancorous  sentiments  within  him,  how  mas 
terful  had  been  his  control  over  himself,  and  with  what 
consummate  tact  had  he  acted,  even  to  the  point  of  sup- 


106  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

plying  ideas,  and  with  his  own  hand  writing  letters,  in 
furtherance  of  his  master's  desire  to  develop  an  intimacy 
with  this  Hebrew  woman,  quietly  chuckling  as  he  re 
ceived  smiles  and  expressions  of  approval  in  return  for 
his  services.  "He  had  been  clever,  he  had  done  well"- 
though  after  all,  in  establishing  spies  and  gaining  all 
possible  information,  he  had  done  no  more  than  he  un 
failingly  did.  Meanwhile,  if  driven  to  grind  his  teeth 
and  bide  his  time,  it  consoled  him  to  reflect  that  such 
people  as  these  Hernanis  would  finally  be  consumed  in 
the  general  conflagration  approaching,  as  would  many 
more  pestilent  Jews  who  encumbered  the  ground,  and 
upon  whom  his  glance  of  hatred  was  fixed.  He  could 
well  afford  to  wait,  so  great  would  be  their  confusion  in 
a  little  \vhile,  and  at  present  it  was  his  policy  to  be  all 
things  to  all  men.  So  he  played  with  Madam  Hourko, 
as  he  did  with  the  General,  both  being  unconsciously  his 
tools  when  it  pleased  him,  for  both  were  blinded  by  their 
belief  in  him;  Madam  Hourko,  the  only  one  in  a  posi 
tion  to  see  through  him,  attributing  all  his  actions,  in  a 
measure,  to  his  gratitude  for  the  notice  she  had  taken  of 
him,  the  preferment  she  had  gained  him. 

Her  idolatrous  regard  for  Hourko,  which,  owing  to 
his  actions  and  temperament,  took  the  form  of  the  most 
insane  jealousy  conceivable,  left  her  no  time  and  no  in 
clination  for  thinking  of  much  else.  But  it  was  this  ele 
ment  of  jealo'usy  that  rendered  her  capable  of  becoming 
extremely  dangerous  to  a  woman  born  and  placed  as 
was  Sara.  Her  exalted  position  invested  her  with  limit 
less  power.  What  could  she  not  do,  or  cause  to  be  done 
to  a  Jewess,  and  one,  moreover,  whose  audacity  she  be 
lieved  had  led  her  to  trifle  with  her  husband,  the  Gener 
al's,  affections?  For  in  Popoloff's  skillful  hands,  the  in 
formation  supplied  her  was  just  such  as  to  arouse  and 
develop  indignation,  without  causing  her  to  overstep 
the  bounds  he  had  at  present  mentally  fixed  for  her.  He 
could  easily  make  her  do  that  when  he  wished.  And  it 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  107 

was  interesting  to  watch  how  tigerish  she  became  when 
her  appetite  was  cunningly  whetted.  Of  course  she  un 
hesitatingly  blamed  the  woman.  Eyes  were  being  made 
at  her  husband,  whose  position  and  splendid  appearance 
had  completely  dazzled  and  subjugated  this  Hebrew 
banker's  wife. 

"But  what  is  to  be  done?"  she  screamed  to  Popoloff, 
in  the  course  of  one  of  their  talks. 

"Nothing,  Madam;  and  it  is  because  these  people  shall 
be  sent  off  to  Siberia  by  etape  one  fine  day,  that  I  say, 
Nothing.  If  you  took  any  step  now,  his  Excellency's 
suspicions  would  be  aroused,  his  indignation  excited,  and 
he  would  put  protective  measures  in  force  which  would 
probably  baffle  us  both.  We  should  be  outwitted,  and 
furthermore,  he  would  be  certain  to  suspect  me.  You 
would  not  wish  that?" 

"On  no  account." 

"Then  trust  me,  Madam.  You  may  do  so  implicitly. 
You  will  find  me  equal  to  the  occasion." 

So  in  blissful  unconsciousness  of  the  storm  that  was 
gathering  beneath  his  own  roof,  Hourko  took  long  drives 
round  the  town,  even  along  the  Avenue,  under  the  pale 
arching  foliage  of  the  limes,  down  into  the  beautiful  park 
of  Lazienki,  always  keeping  a  sharp  look  out,  yet  scarce 
ly  ever  catching  a  glimpse  of  this  woman  he  was  hunting 
for,  who  seemed  so  absurdly  unapproachable,  and  who 
.was,  in  fact,  more  anxious  than  ever  to  avoid  him.  When 
he  stopped  his  carriage,  and  alighted  to  speak  to  her  on 
one  or  two  occasions,  Sara  had  received  him  with  ner 
vous  and  chilly  reserve,  he  the  while  taking  no  pains  to 
conceal  the  admiration  he  entertained  for  her. 

No  kind  of  social  intercourse  between  them  was  pos 
sible  on  ordinary  lines,  his  nationality,  if  not  his  rank, 
erecting  obstructive  barriers  of  iron.  He  knew  that,  yet 
"she  must  come  to  the  palace  and  talk  with  him.  Much 
good  might  come  from  such  conversations.  He  was 
prepared  to  be  as  good  as  his  word  and  to  befriend  her 


108  HERN  AN  I  THE  JEW: 

co-religionists  in  all  ways  that  were  feasible  and  pru 
dent."  But  the  great  man  pleaded  in  vain.  Having 
heard  as  in  a  sort  of  misty  dream  all  he  had  to  say,  and 
been  well  stared  at  for  walking  with  so  important  a  per 
sonage,  Sara  thanked  him  courteously,  but  politely  ex 
cused  herself,  with  pretty  but  undeniable  dexterity. 

In  reality,  her  heart  was  too  full,  her  brain  too  act 
ively  engaged  in  unhappy  reflections,  to  give  a  thought 
to  him,  and  the  policy  she  had  but  so  recently  deemed 
desirable. 

Far  from  disheartening  Hourko,  this  resistance  to  his 
wishes,  and  indifference  to  his  advances,  affected  him  as 
might  have  been  expected,  seeing  that  he  was  a  strong- 
willed,  obstinate  man,  to  whom  the  sensation  of  being 
repulsed  was  distinctly  refreshing.  He  was  so  powerful 
and  influential,  accustomed  for  many  years  to  being 
courted  and  made  much  of,  even  by  those  who  were 
themselves  of  some  importance;  and  here  was  this  Jew 
ish  woman  setting  herself  up  against  him,  ignoring  his 
advances,  unaffected  by  them,  apparently  only  desirous 
of  being  rid  of  him.  This  opposition  at  once  set  her 
upon  a  higher  platform  in  his  mind.  In  proportion  to 
her  difference  in  appearance,  so  was  she  purer  in  mind 
and  in  virtue  than  those  other  women,  who  had  been, 
one  and  all,  only  too  glad  to  accept  his  favors  and  caress 
es,  pleased  if  they  might  thus  buzz  about  him.  Yes,  this 
Sara  was  evidently  of  rarer  and  more  precious  material, 
worthier  of  a  true  and  lasting  love  than  of  a  simple  pass 
ing  fancy.  But,  all  the  same,  was  he  not  Ivan  Nicholae- 
vitch  Hourko,  and  had  he  not  always  obtained  what  he 
had  coveted?  To  think  that  he  had  stooped  to,  and  shown 
himself  attracted  by  a  woman,  who  if  not  nameless,  was 
in  the  eyes  of  some  people  lower  even,  by  reason  of  her 
blood.  There  came  moments  when  he  was  dangerously 
piqued,  though  these  were  when  his  thoughts  were  low 
est  and  most  passionate.  Still  his  amour  propre  had  re 
ceived  a  shock  which  at  such  times  made  him  feel  al- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  109 

most  vindictive.  She  had  better  take  care,  or  she  should 
rue  the  day  in  which  she  began  to  trifle  with  him.  As  a 
woman  she  must  have  seen  all  along  how  he  had  been 
affected.  Perhaps  she  had  laughed  at  him.  A  thousand 
furies!  He  would  bring  her  to  her  knees,  she  should  beg 
her  honor  and  her  life  from  him,  the  little  fool.  Did  she 
think  herself  free  to  do  as  she  pleased?  She  should  dis 
cover  her  mistake,  and  that  soon.  There  was  no  such 
thing  as  freedom  in  the  land  for  her  or  her  race.  Pish! 
she  was  very  beautiful,  but  she  had  her  price,  and  if  not, 
it  was  in  his  power  to  make  her  take,  and  be  glad  to  take, 
what  he  chose.  Do  what  he  would,  he  found  it  impossi 
ble  to  shut  her  image  out  of  his  mind.  She  was  always 
rising  up,  disturbing  and  seductive.  There  was  some 
thing  in  her  lithe  and  easy  carriage,  in  the  milk-white 
nape  of  her  neck,  with  its  curling  auburn  locks,  some 
thing  in  the  liquid  depths  of  her  wonderful  eyes,  which 
inflamed  his  passions  and  bewitched  him,  as  he  had  never 
thought  to  be  bewitched. 

Titus  Prokofievitch  Popoloff,  and  those  beneath  him, 
had  a  bad  time  when  such  visions  presented  themselves, 
and  Ivan  Nicholaevitch  grew  irritable,  because  he  was 
no  nearer  those  perfections  than  on  the  day  when  they 
had  first  met  his  gaze,  besides  seeing  no  way  to  approach 
them  either  by  strategy  or  force.  Considering  the  state 
of  the  political  atmosphere,  if  he  were  guilty  of  any  ex 
traordinary  step,  Warsaw  might  be  ablaze,  and  a  leakage 
of  news  would  at  once  get  through  to  St.  Petersburg. 
He  would  be  talked  of,  injured,  with  such  fine  capital  in 
the  hands  of  his  enemies.  No;  he  was  not  going  to  be 
such  a  fool.  He  must  fret  and  fume  and  wait;  lose  sight 
of  his  purpose,  never. 

And  in  ignorance  of  the  deadly  enemies  she  had  so 
unconsciously  created,  Sara  sorrowfully  dragged  through 
the  days  that  were  now  not  the  least  bit  like  what  the  old 
ones  had  been,  and  would,  it  seemed,  never  come  round 
to  right  themselves  again.  Such  a  hope  seldom  glim- 


1 10  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

mered  in  her  mind,  and  when  it  did,  she  wondered  how 
it  had  come  there,  since  there  was  no  shadowy  ground 
even  for  its  existence.  And  as  though  to  sadden  her, 
and  remind  her  more  forcibly  of  the  mourning  that  had 
taken  possession  of  her  heart,  when  she  went  out,  every 
woman  she  met — even  Russian — was  like  herself,  at 
tired  in  deep  black,  and  could  not  have  walked  the  streets 
in  safety  otherwise.  In  addition,  all  places  of  public 
amusement  were  now  completely  abandoned,  even  the 
mildest  form  of  recreation  being  as  sternly  tabooed  in 
private  circles  as  though  the  most  solemn  season  had 
been  entered  upon,  and  each  house  sorrowed  for  its  be 
loved  dead.  The  churches  were  crammed  and  ringing 
with  the  sad  and  tender  prayerfulness  of  the  national 
hymn,  while  no  great  day  in  the  annals  of  Polish  history 
was  suffered  to  pass  unmarked. 

After  the  municipal  elections  came  fresh  demonstra 
tions,  and  these  were  indulged  in,  until  one  fine  day,  an 
official  declaration  of  a  state  of  siege  was  proclaimed. 

In  all  this  there  was  nothing  to  cheer,  not  one  flash  of 
light  to  illumine,  and  Sara  felt  her  spirits  at  zero,  in  spite 
of  the  unflagging  efforts  she  made  to  forget  herself  by 
means  of  the  old  recipe  of  taking  interest  in  others.  As 
a  proof  of  the  genuineness  of  her  attempts  in  this  direc 
tion,  she  busied  herself  in  gaining  information,  going 
into  really  minute  calculations  over  the  revolutionary 
question,  finally  by  drawing  up  a  plan  with  much  labor 
and  thought,  in  which  she  succeeded  in  setting  down 
with  admirable  lucidity — considering  the  conflicting 
statements  made  in  the  materials  at  her  disposal — a  vig 
orous  resume  of  what  should,  in  her  opinion,  be  done  to 
cope  with  the  difficulties  of  the  political  situation.  She 
was  inspired  to  do  this  by  the  decision  she  had  arrived 
at,  to  damp  Hernani's  patriotism  no  longer,  her  innate 
conscientiousness  demanding  that  she  should  at  least 
learn  all  she  could  of  a  cause,  which,  if  not  warmly  ad 
vocating,  she  at  least  countenanced;  the  undertaking 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  Ill 

being  an  attempt  to  justify  herself  for  the  course  she  had 
adopted.  When  she  had  finished  it,  she  showed  it  to 
Hernani. 

"Why,  what  is  this?"  he  inquired,  pushing  some  papers 
aside  and  unrolling  the  scroll  she  had  handed  to  him. 

"A  plan  of  campaign/'  she  answered  rather  seriously. 

"Drawn  up  by  Joan  of  Arc?"  he  asked  with  an  amused 
smile. 

"By  poor  Sara  Hernani,"  she  replied  wearily. 

"Why  poor?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know." 

"A  woman's  answer — but  let  me  see.  You  must  have 
spent  a  lot  of  time,  and  taken  any  amount  of  pains  over 
this." 

"Yes,  it  gave  me  some  trouble." 

"And  why  did  you  do  it?" 

"Because  the  subject  is  of  vital  importance." 

"Quite  true.  It  is  very  clear  and  ingenious.  Do  these 
figures  represent  the  number  of  male  inhabitants  between 
these  ages?" 

"Yes,  that  is  the  total;  and,  even  supposing  that  half 
the  peasants  refuse  their  assistance,  there  remains  a  suffi 
ciently  formidable  body  upon  which  to  count.  The  two 
greatest  difficulties  will  be  to  supply  arms  and  teach  even 
the  most  rudimentary  discipline.  To  feed  them  I  imagine 
would  not  be  quite  so  hard  a  task." 

"No,  I  should  say  not;  you  are  right  there.  Many 
friends  would  be  met  with,  and  supplies  to  a  certain  ex 
tent  would  be  assured."  He  was  surprised  at  the  clear 
ness  of  her  ideas.  "But  to  rely  upon  half  the  peasants, 
to  begin  with,  would  be  a  mistake.  Men  have  long  mem 
ories  where  grievances  are  concerned.  They  will — in 
bulk — probably  forget  a  kindness;  they  always  remem 
ber  an  injury.  The  wrongs  of  centuries  have  brought 
them  to  the  pass  they  have  arrived  at.  In  addition  to 
flogging  and  imprisonment,  the  Polish  noble  occasion 
ally  took  it  into  his  head  to  deprive  his  serf  of  life,  his 


112  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

only  punishment  for  the  savage  crime  being  a  fine  of  a 
few  livres.  I  need  not  say  more,  to  convince  you  that 
the  peasant  has  a  heavy  account  to  get  settled,  and  will 
not  forget  to  demand  payment  when  the  chance  offers. 
But  all  this  you  know  as  well  as  I  do." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  I  do." 

"As  for  the  importation  of  arms,  something  has  al 
ready  been  done,  yet  very  little,  and  for  every  rifle  that 
reaches  its  destination,  three  are  lost.  Discipline  to  any 
extent  seems  out  of  the  question." 

"Your  views  are  not  usually  so  gloomy." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  it  is  well  to  err  on  the  safe  side. 
Leave  this  with  me  to  look  at.  I'm  glad  you  are  so  much 
interested.  In  all  your  calculations  remember  this:  the 
Russians  will  yet  suffer  for  doing  what  we,  the  Poles, 
have  already  done,  and  are  suffering  for  now.  The 
worm  will  turn  and  so  will  the  peasant,  wherever  he  may 
be  enslaved  and  ill-treated.  The  Polish  noble  is  paying 
now  for  the  tyranny  practiced  by  his  forefathers;  the 
Russian  noble's  turn  will  come." 

How  cold  and  business-like  was  his  manner,  how  stri 
dent  his  voice — so  woefully  changed  from  that  of  old 
days — and  he  had  as  good  as  dismissed  her  without  the 
warm  kind  kiss  so  common  once,  now,  alas!  a  luxury; 
and  yet,  knowing  the  turn  of  his  thoughts  towards  her, 
she  dare  not  say,  "What  is  amiss?  Come — let  us  be 
again  what  we  have  been."  Such  a  request  was  impossi 
ble;  there  could  be  no  putting  matters  right,  and  she 
must  just  drag  on  her  life  thus,  thankful  that  she  might 
see  and  speak  with  him,  conscious  that  ere  long  she 
would  be  deprived  of  even  that  consolation. 

It  was  at  such  times  as  these  that  she  felt  like  going 
mad — moments  when  his  actions  flung  her  face  to  face 
with  facts.  She  was  in  a  regular  trap.  To  think  that  she 
loved  this  man  more  than  her  life,  yet  dare  not  reproach 
him  for  his  altered  conduct,  for  fear  of  hastening  the 
catastrophe  she  dreaded,  and  had  silently  to  contemplate 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  113 

overtaking  her  any  clay.  What  ill-luck  had  come  to  her, 
when  by  mere  chance  she  had  overheard  his  terrible  dis 
closure  to  Bloch — Bloch,  before  whom  she  now  felt 
shame-faced  and  awkward,  as  though  she  had  no  right 
where  she  found  herself,  and  was  only  there  on  suffer 
ance.  And  to  keep  up  appearances  she  had  been  com 
pelled  to  meet  him.  It  was  too  cruel.  If,  instead  of 
making  the  discovery  she  had,  the  space  of  but  a  few 
yards  had  separated  her  from  that  detestable  doorway, 
then  at  least  her  existence  would  have  been  tolerable, 
since  she  then  would  have  accepted  some  such  excuse 
as  his  oft-repeated,  "Pooh!  you  don't  understand — I 
have  much  upon  my  mind — I  am  busy,"  as  a  sort  of  rea 
son  for  the  complete  transformation  her  affection  de 
tected.  Besides,  she  would  have  invented;  there  would 
have  been  business  anxieties  which  told  upon  his  health 
and  temper,  the  shadow  cast  by  the  great  stir  in  the 
country,  like  the  increase  of  wind,  the  sighing  of  it,  and 
the  accompanying  distress  and  gloom  heralding  the 
storm;  all  sorts  of  excuses  would  have  been  made  for 
him,  and  so  she  would  have  lived  a  little  longer  in  the 
fool's  paradise  she  had  been  so  contented  with.  Any 
thing  rather  than  the  load  she  now  bore.  Sheer  nerv 
ousness,  too,  made  her  confident  that  other  people  be 
sides  Bloch  and  Riva  Krein  were  aware  of  the  state  of 
affairs — scandal  traveling  far  and  furiously.  She  saw  it 
in  their  eyes  and  in  their  manner  to  her,  and  was  forever 
imagining  that  she  had  detected  some  fresh  symptoms 
of  pity  or  thinly-veiled  contempt.  When  such  fancies 
as  these  laid  hold  upon  her,  she  was  beside  herself  with 
mixed  feelings  of  indignation  and  annoyance.  A  pretty 
figure  she  cut,  supplying  food  for  gossip;  being  ridi 
culed  unmercifully,  no  doubt,  for  endeavoring  to  hang 
on  where  she  was  no  longer  wanted.  When  despair 
ingly  appealed  to,  Riva  Krein  had  expended  her  tears 
and  her  eloquence  to  no  purpose. 

"What  ails  my  lamb?     It  can't  be;    make  your  mind 

8 


114  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

easy.  The  thing  is  impossible.  The  dead  are  not  more 
silent  than  I  have  been.  Not  a  soul  knows." 

But  Sara  refused  to  be  comforted. 

"Oh!  that  I  could  rest  somewhere,"  she  would  sob, 
her  spirits  at  the  lowest  ebb.  "Do  you  see  how  he  has 
changed — what  a  different  man  he  is  to  me?" 

"The  Holy  One  will  curse  him  unless  he  takes  care, 
for  it  is  written,  'Men  should  be  careful  lest  they  cause 
women  to  weep,  for  God  counts  their  tears.'  " 

"Hush!    Riva." 

"Well,  my  lamb,  is  it  not  so?" 

"Hush!  I  say.  You  must  not  say  such  dreadful 
things.  He  is  not  to  blame — it  is  I.  I  should  never 
have  been  born.  Such  women  as  myself,  who  are  in 
capable  of  fulfilling  the  duty  for  which  they  were 
brought  into  the  world — that  of  child-bearing — only  en 
cumber  the  ground.  I  speak  plainly  that  you  may 
understand  what  I  feel,  Riva." 

"Oh!  I  understand;  but,  dear  heart,  to  hear  you,  one 
might  think  there  were  not  enough  of  us  already.  See 
what  a  time  I've  had;  there's  never  been  a  place  for 
me,  though  I've  looked  hard  for  one.  Now  I'll  tell  you, 
this  is  my  belief — that  there  are  too  many  of  us,  and  that 
good  store  should  be  set  by  those  who  just  come  and 
go,  without  making  misery  by  multiplying.  If  a  man 
knew  when  he  was  well  off,  he  wouldn't  look  for  sons 
to  blacken  his  name  and  worry  him  into  the  grave,  as 
many  a  son  has  done  before  now.  If  the  Holy  One 
gives  him  no  children,  he  should  say,  'Well  so,'  and  be 
content.  I've  no  patience." 

"But  we  all  expect  children,  Riva.     It's  only  natural." 

"Well,  so  we  may.  I've  expected  a  lot  of  things,  but 
as  soon  as  I  found  I  came  no  nearer  getting  them,  I 
stopped  expecting.  It's  best  so.  We're  only  happy 
when  we've  got  nothing  to  hope  for,  and  what  we  get 
comes  to  us  as  a  surprise." 

"Must  we  indeed  become  embittered?" 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  115 

"Things  bitter  to  the  tongue  are  sweet  to  the  stomach. 
A  good  few  of  us  would  be  happier  if  we  didn't  expect 
so  much.  Look  at  the  master — the  Lord  preserve  him! 
What  a  lot  he  has  to  make  him  happy — if  he  wouldn't 
look  for  more,  and  so  work  hard  to  spoil  what  he  has." 

"Riva,  you  don't  know  his  troubles,  you  can't  feel  as 
he  feels;  therefore  you  must  not  judge  him.  No  two 
of  us  are  constituted  alike.  I  can  fully  understand  that 
I  am  a  disappointment  to  him,  but  I  would  have  had 
him  come  to  me  and  tell  me  so,  not  talk  about  me  to 
others." 

"I'll  hear  no  such  thing  as  that  you  are  a  disappoint 
ment  to  anyone.  If  you  are,  it's  because  they  don't 
know  how  to  value  you.  Was  anyone  ever  so  beau 
tiful?" 

"In  your  eyes,  Riva." 

"No,  not  in  my  eyes  alone.  Doesn't  the  whole  street 
turn  to  look  at  you  when  you  pass?  Haven't  I  seen 
it  many  times?  In  Cracow,  when  we  were  poor,  wasn't 
it  the  same?  It  was  the  joy  of  my  life,  to  see  the  fine 
ladies  with  fortunes  on  their  backs,  envious  of  you, 
whose  whole  outfit  would  not  have  fetched  twenty 
gulden.  And  you  are  good  and  charitable;  could  any 
one  be  more  so?  Haven't  you  given  your  time  and 
money  for  others,  and  thought  of  them  more  than  of 
yourself,  risking  health  and  life  many  a  day  when  the 
fever  and  cholera's  been  raging?  Don't  I  know?  Ah! 
to  have  been  a  man,  and  to  have  been  loved  by  you, 
would  have  been  a  foretaste  of  bliss.  And  I  have  had 
my  love;  I  know  about  it — what  it  is  to  feel  one's  limbs 
palsied,  one's  heart  as  though  it  would  stand  still,  faint, 
weary  unto  death.  I  loved  like  that,  and  it  was  all  use 
less.  I  have  never  loved  since." 

"My  poor  Riva." 

"Don't  sorrow  for  me — I'm  past  needing  it;  for, 
though  I  used  to  know  what  it  was  for  the  days  that 
kept  us  apart,  to  seem  like  years;  for  the  warmth  and 


Il6  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

light  of  the  sun  to  be  in  my  heart  as  well  as  about  me; 
though  the  thought  that  we  were  to  meet — and  the  sight 
of  him  made  me  tremble  with  a  joy  I  can't  tell  of — think 
of  this;  I  am  never  to  tremble  again,  not  even  for  death. 
No,  don't  you  sorrow  for  me,  because  you  are  all  I  have 
to  live  for  in  the  world,  and  you're  enough." 

"I  know  it,  I  know  it,  and  you  will  come  with  me 
if— if- 

"Come  with  you  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  We  two  will 
journey  along  together;  and  what  is  it  after  all — it  will 
soon  be  over;  the  journey  along  the  rough  ways  and 
through  the  night,  will  soon  be  done,  and  the  Holy  One 
— blessed  be  He! — will  have  us  in  His  arms,  safe,  some 
where."  Tears  stood  in  Riva's  black  eyes,  and  her 
wrinkled  skin  was  drawn  into  a  web  of  puckers  as  her 
feelings  worked  in  her  face.  Sara  could  not  speak,  and 
the  old  woman,  with  her  peaked  and  shriveled  breast 
heaving  tumultuously,  gasped  forth:  "Ah!  it  has  been 
a  weary  fight,  a  weary  fight,  my  lamb;  but  courage — 
we  shall  go  to  rest  when  it  is  time."  And  a  seraphic 
light  shone  in  her  face,  as  though  the  land  she  spoke  of 
lay  illumined  before  her  earth-worn  eyes. 

"But  meanwhile,"  murmured  Sara,  controlling  the 
emotion  that  threatened  to  master  her — "meanwhile  we 
must  keep  on  fighting.  You  will  help  me,  you  will  be 
with  me,  and  what  a  comfort  you  are!" 

"Am  I,  my  love — am  I?  Then  I  am  happy.  To 
hear  you  say  that,  from  your  heart,  is  what  I've  lived  for 
this  long  while  past.  The  riches  seemed  robbing  me 
of  you,  and  in  my  heart  I  cursed  them." 

"They  will  have  taken  to  themselves  wings  and  fled, 
soon  enough.  But  can  you  understand  what  I  suffer, 
Riva — I,  who  was  so  happy  that  the  days  were  never 
long  enough?  I  seemed  to  walk  on  air,  to  breathe  the 
breath  of  heaven,  and  now — now — 

"I  know,  my  lamb,  I  know.  But  you  must  conquer 
and  crush  these  feelings,  or  soon  you  will  cease  to 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  117 

struggle  at  all.  It  may  seem  hard,  but  it  must  be  clone. 
The  master  loves  you — that's  what  you  have  to  go  upon 
and  look  to.  With  my  own  ears  I've  heard  him  tell  you 
that  you  are  his  first  real  love,  and  woe  to  him  if  he 
cleaves  not  to  you.  Is  it  not  written,  'Tears  are  shed  on 
God's  altar  for  the  one  who  forsakes  his  first  love'? 
The  man  who  forsook  me  never  prospered.  And  it 
was  just;  he  robbed  me  of  all  I  had  to  give,  and  then 
fled.  The  Eternal  reckons  up  these  things,  my  love. 
Lay  yourself  out  to  keep  the  master,  and  you  must  suc 
ceed;  what  man  could  resist  you?" 

"If  only  he  had  not  said  what  he  did,  Riva.'' 

"Perhaps  he  was  angry  and  did  not  mean  it.  Men 
are  like  that." 

"How  could  that  be?  Bloch  was  with  him  by  ap 
pointment.  He  had  arranged  to  meet  him  to  tell  him 
about  me." 

"Go  and  ask  him,  then." 

"Ask  him?"  repeated  Sara  passionately.  "How  often 
have  you  suggested  that,  and  how  often  have  I  said  I 
would  rather  die  than  do  it!  If  I  needed  proof  to  con 
vince  me  that  his  words  were  neither  angry  nor  idle 
ones,  I  have  it  in  his  whole  treatment  of  me." 

"Then  be  patient,"  answered  the  old  woman  sagely. 
"It  is  written  that  'to  b"e  patient  is  sometimes  better  than 
to  have  much  wealth.'  Ah!  how  should  I  have  come 
through  my  life,  if  I  had  not  remembered  and  treasured 
up  these  blessed  sayings?  We  fail  to  value  what  we 
have  at  its  worth.  When  one  is  famished,  how  one 
relishes  a  crust,  when  each  blast  of  wind  blows  through 
one,  what  warmth  and  cheer  is  to  be  found  in  a  gleam 
of  sunshine,  and  when  one  hungers  for  sympathy,  how 
the  chance  word  of  a  stranger  even,  yields  consola 
tion." 

"Then  you  think  I  make  too  much  of  my  troubles?" 

"If  you  were  to  count  up  the  mercies  more  diligently, 
you  would  be  able  to  bear  them  better,  my  lamb.  And 


Il8  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

after  all,  the  Lord  can  give,  and  He  can  take  away.  He 
may  wish  you  to  begin  a  new  life,  and  for  such  as  you, 
how  many  men  there  are  in  the  world!" 

"You  are  wrong,  Riva;  for  me,  no  men  exist.  I 
shall  never  love  again."  And  Sara  turned  sadly  away, 
wondering  why  she  had  talked  so  long,  and  at  the  end 
of  it,  had  found  so  little  comfort;  though  it  happened 
so  always,  no  matter  how  often  she  found  herself  listen 
ing  to  and  confiding  in  Riva. 

Sometimes  it  occurred  to  her  that  she  was  too  much 
alone,  and  that  if  she  cultivated  the  numerous  friends 
or  rather  acquaintances  she  possessed,  and  resumed  the 
old  habits  with  which  she  had  broken,  she  would  be 
able  to  forget  herself  and  her  misfortunes  more,  and 
endure  her  lot  better. 

It  had  come  to  this:  she,  who  used  to  be  so  busy,  with 
never  an  idle  moment  on  her  hands — visiting  the  poor, 
tending  them  in  sickness,  cheering  and  inspiring  them 
always,  even  reminding  them  of  the  hard,  sad  life  she 
had  once  lived — could  now  contemplate  recontinuing 
this  renunciation  of  self,  yet  for  the  moment  felt  her 
self  too  weak  to  do  it.  The  painful  sensation  of  nerv 
ousness  which  caused  her  to  shrink  from  meeting  any 
one,  and  which  strengthened  every  day,  partly  pre 
vented  her.  And  besides,  how  was  she,  in  the  midst  of 
sickness  and  misfortune,  poverty  and  oftentimes  death, 
to  bear  up  with  unruffled  composure  and  cheerful  pla 
cidity,  when  the  hand  of  sorrow  lay  so  heavy  upon  her? 
How  could  she  speak  words  of  consolation  and  tender 
ness  to  others,  when  at  the  bare  thought  of  it  all,  her 
own  grief  blinded  her?  No;  she  was  prepared  to  admit 
that  she  was  incapable  of  such  an  attempt,  and  rather 
than  make  it,  preferred  to  wander  about  the  garden  and 
the  house,  a  prey  to  the  melancholy  reflections  which 
had  laid  such  firm  hold  upon  her.  She  even  avoided 
the  little  shopping  excursions,  which  had  once  been  a 
recognized  portion  of  her  daily  duty,  availing  herself  of 


HERNAN1  THE  JEW.  119 

every  possible  pretext  for  sending  Riva  instead,  and 
the  drive  or  walk  beneath  the  centenarian  lime-trees  of 
the  Avenue,  or  to  the  left,  amidst  the  plane-trees  and 
sycamores  of  the  park  of  Lazienki,  was  fraught  with 
the  possibility  of  encountering  Hourko  and  his  passion 
ate  glances,  and  so  a  thing  to  be  avoided. 

After  she  had  scrupulously  attended  to  her  household 
tasks,  however,  there  was  the  one  spot — the  garden — in 
which  she  felt  herself  safe  from  intrusion,  and  where  she 
could  indulge  in  her  mournful  reflections  without  dread 
of  being  disturbed,  since  in  it  she  could  escape  from  the 
gaze  of  the  curious,  from  the  admiring  glances  which 
persecuted  her  once  out  of  doors,  and  from  being  forced 
into  conversations  which  were  without  a  particle  of  in 
terest  for  her,  in  the  mood  she  had  become  reduced  to. 

Here,  on  pretense  of  reading,  she  would  retire,  for 
hours,  the  book  unopened,  it  is  true;  but  when,  after 
moments  of  mental  distress,  comparative  calmness  had 
come  again,  she  would  surrender  herself  to  the  enjoy 
ment  of  admiring  with  the  eyes  of  a  true  lover  of  nature, 
if  not  of  an  artist,  the  soothing  and  beautiful  effects  of 
light  and  shade,  as  the  sun  streamed  through  the  great 
dark  boughs  of  the  cedars,  and  danced  upon  the  spark 
ling  waters  of  the  fountain  where  the  gold-fish  lurked, 
motionless  in  the  shade  of  the  Flora  whose  image  was 
flung  upon  the  waters,  and  from  whose  sculptured 
fingers  the  crystal  spray  descended  upon  them. 

It  was  here,  amidst  the  soft  cooing  of  the  doves,  the 
hum  of  insects,  and  the  multitudinous  but  more  distant 
sounds  of  the  great  city  surrounding  her,  that  she  gave 
the  rein  to  her  thoughts;  pacing  amongst  the  flowers, 
admiring  their  delicate  and  brilliant  faces,  delighting  in 
the  odors  that  arose  from  them,  and  never  wearying  of  it 
all  for  one  moment,  only  wishing  herself  less  sad,  less 
lonely. 

When  the  weather  was  fine,  it  had  been  a  habit  of 
Hernani's  to  join  her  there,  to  take  tea  from  her  hands 


120  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

in  an  arbor  within  sound  of  the  fountain,  and  after  an 
hour  or  so  spent  in  this  fashion,  it  had  been  his  custom 
to  return  to  his  bureau  and  finish  the  business  of  the 
day.  She  could  count  on  half  the  fingers  of  one  hand, 
the  number  of  times  he  had  done  so  latterly,  and  even 
when  he  had  so  condescended,  his  going  had  been  rather 
a  relief,  so  awkward  had  been  the  turns  the  conversa 
tion  had  taken.  Once,  when  he  had  joined  her  in  this 
way,  she  was  on  the  point  of  telling  him  of  her  visits 
to  Hourko,  and  all  in  connection  with  them,  but  she 
refrained  from  doing  so,  as  she  reflected  that  they  were 
a  little  happier  together  for  the  moment,  that  most 
assuredly  he  would  be  dreadfully  angry,  and  finally,  that 
to  explain  her  reason  for  having  gone,  she  would  have 
to  sound  her  own  trumpet,  since  it  had  been  her  desire 
to  help  others  that  had  prompted  the  step.  Better  not, 
she  thought;  better  let  the  past  be  past.  So  she  had 
turned  from  the  subject,  deciding  not  to  speak  of  it,  little 
dreaming  how  closely  she  had  approached  the  happiness 
she  sought  and  seemed  to  have  said  farewell  to.  It  is 
often  so  in  life;  a  tiny  spring  or  wheel  awry,  even 
a  grain  of  dust,  and  the  whole  going  of  the  machine 
is  altered,  spoiled. 

But  to  retrace  our  steps  a  little.  The  plan  of  cam 
paign — as  Sara  had  jestingly  entitled  her  written  at 
tempt  to  comprehend  clearly,  the  prospects,  and  prob 
able  line  of  conduct,  of  the  insurrectionary  leaders — 
produced  effects  that  could  never  have  been  conceived 
as  possible  by  her,  once  her  back  was  turned. 

Hernani  unrolled  the  manuscript  again  and  examined 
it  attentively,  a  shadow,  dark  as  a  thunder-cloud,  slowly 
gathering  in  his  face  and  completely  distorting  his  fine 
features  during  the  process.  At  length  with  an  angry 
exclamation  he  dashed  it  upon  the  floor.  What  was 
this  insane  piece  of  paper  calculated  to  do?  Mislead 
him,  beguile  him  into  believing  her  true  to  the  cause 
he  had  at  heart,  and,  in  consequence,  an  enemy  to  the 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  121 

death  of  Hourko's,  when  the  last  thing  he  had  heard  was 
that  she  had  been  seen  walking  with  him  in  the  Avenue, 
the  two  of  them  evidently  exchanging  confidences,  with 
heads  bent  low  like  lovers,  while  the  coachman  followed 
them  at  a  respectful  distance,  in  readiness  to  whisk  his 
master  away  to  further  acts  of  villainy.  Was  she  pleased 
to  think,  then,  that  nothing  that  was  done  by  her  was 
known  to  him,  and  that  she  could  career  about  the  town 
as  it  suited  her,  receiving  attentions  from  the  most 
prominent  of  the  Government  chiefs,  without  it  so  much 
as  reaching  his  ears?  He,  Kasimir  Hernani,  wealthy, 
respected,  and  he  had  every  reason  to  believe,  beloved 
— he,  the  pillar  of  his  party,  the  strongest  prop  and  most 
trusted  follower  of  his  persuasion  in  all  Warsaw!  Was 
there  ever  anything  so  absurd?  He,  who  employed 
spies,  who  was  known  to  everyone,  and  could  not  stir 
without  stumbling  across  an  acquaintance,  not  to  know 
of  such  shame-faced  behavior!  For  there  was  no  use 
in  mincing  matters,  casting  about  for  fine  phrases; 
sharne-faced  it  was,  and  he  would  call  it  so.  Of  course 
information  reached  him  through  circuitous  channels, 
but  then  information  of  such  a  kind  naturally  would. 
And  it  would  be  retailed  as  fine  gossip,  repeated  as  a 
good  joke,  and  told  to  him  from  cynical  as  well  as  med 
dling  motives.  People  would  wonder  what  he  was 
about,  what  strange  move  he  was  authorizing  and  quiet 
ly  calculating  the  effect  of.  He  would  be  discredited  by 
those  in  whose  trust  he  stood  high.  Was  he  employing 
his  beautiful  wife,  as  a  decoy  or  a  go-between,  for  the 
further  development  of  some  subtle  ruse,  some  care 
fully-thought  out  machination,  the  result  of  which  would 
be  startling?  Was  he  preparing  some  Russian  nest,  in 
which  to  ensconce  himself  snug  and  safe  when  the  strife 
ran  high? 

For  without  doubt  he  would  be  credited  with  knowing 
all  she  did,  since  they  were  looked  upon  as  a  model 
couple,  who  had  made  a  love-match  and  had  found  it 


122  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

answer.  Of  course  this  was  the  light  in  which  people 
would  look  at  it.  And  it  was  the  condition  under  which 
they  had  lived,  their  love  and  perfect  faith,  upon  the 
genuineness  of  which  he  could  have  staked  his  life,  that 
had  produced  his  proud,  suspicious,  and  jealous  decision 
to  remain  dumb.  Sara's  conduct  had,  by  its  apparent 
infamy,  electrified  him  into  silence,  and  reduced  him 
into  awaiting  with  agonizing  interest,  a  further  develop 
ment  of  the  situation,  under  the  growing  impression 
that  she  had  suddenly  shown  herself  in  her  true  colors, 
leapt  out  of  his  control,  and  was  no  longer  worthy  of  it. 
Thus,  the  appalling  nature  of  the  spectacle  he  had  set 
himself  to  watch,  had  gradually  enchained  him,  breath 
less  and  spell-bound.  What  was  the  use  of  speaking 
to  her,  he  had  argued  scores  of  times?  If  proofs  were 
needed,  they  were  to  hand  in  plenty,  and  if  he  doubted 
his  own  ears  and  eyesig»ht,  he  surely  could  not  mistake 
the  meaning  of  her  altered  conduct  toward  him.  She 
was  another  being.  In  a  few  weeks  her  affection  for  him 
had  steadily  dwindled  to  nothing,  his  own  manner  and 
actions  during  the  time  having,  he  imagined,  been  ex 
emplary.  For  like  many  a  man,  he  believed  himself  to 
be  a  good  actor ;  and  in  reality,  had  played  well  enough 
up  to  the  point  at  which  he  had  become  too  much  in 
terested  and  incensed  to  conduct  himself  consistently. 
When  the  news  of  the  fresh  and  further  meeting  between 
Sara  and  Hourko  had  reached  him,  he  had  received  it 
with  the  tact  he  deemed  suitable  to  the  occasion,  being 
in  the  highway  with  the  broad  glare  of  day  upon  him; 
but,  once  under  cover  and  alone,  the  change  became 
startling.  His  anger  was  terrible,  his  despair  pitiable. 
Such  an  outburst  was  natural  to  such  a  man,  and  in 
the  heat  of  it  he  suddenly  seemed  to  be  capable  of  over 
stepping  all  bounds.  The  silent  walls  of  his  bureau  rang 
with  menaces  and  imprecations,  he  goaded  himself  into 
a  fury  as  a  newly-caged  tiger  might  have  done,  dashing 
himself  against  the  bars,  as  it  were,  in  an  impotent  at- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  123 

tempt  to  escape  from  this  galling  persecution.  If 
Hourko  had  not  been  altogether  unassailable,  then  he 
might  have  extricated  himself  from  this  trap  in  whicli 
he  was  caught,  and  in  which  he  seemed  doomed  to  suffer 
in  silence;  he  would  have  struck  at  him  as  man  to  man, 
and  his  life  would  have  paid  for  his  rascally  temerity, 
but  such  a  step  was  impossible.  The  chosen  representa 
tive  of  the  Tsar,  incased  in  the  iron  support  of  the  realm, 
Hourko  was  invulnerable,  and  the  knout  or  transporta 
tion  to  Siberia  would  have  been  the  result  of  any  rash 
ness.  Since  this  was  so,  the  only  solution  to  the  diffi 
culty,  was  the  one  he  had  arrived  at  long  ago,  and  so 
boldly  spoken  of  to  Hermann  Bloch.  But  when  it  came 
to  this  crucial  point,  he  found  himself  too  weak  to  act. 
His  own  near  relatives  were  dead;  Sara  was  the  one 
being  upon  earth  about  whom  he  was  entwined,  the 
very  sight  of  whom  made  his  pulses  thrill,  his  heart  leap ; 
for  whom  he  had  toiled  to  increase  his  reputation  and 
his  wealth,  before  whom  he  had  taken  an  almost  childish 
pleasure  in  displaying  his  abilities.  He  could  sever 
himself  from  her  no  more  easily  than  the  monarch  of 
the  forest  could  break  from  his  roots. 

And  if  he  steeled  himself  to  endure  the  wrench,  what 
about  the  effect  upon  her,  given  that  her  love  for  him 
was  dead?  Once  adrift,  he  well  knew  that  she  would 
take  no  money  from  him;  and  since  she  did  not  possess 
a  penny  of  her  own,  how  was  she  to  exist?  Upon  the 
charity  of  others;  or  yet,  more  terrible  to  contemplate, 
the  sale  of  the  virtue  and  perfections  he  had  prized  more 
than  all  his  worldly  possessions.  And  should  he  be  the 
one  to  drive  her  to  such  degradation — to  that  or  to 
death?  An  heroic  idea  darted  through  his  mind,  and 
as  its  soothing  influence  stole  over  him,  he  ceased  his 
impatient  walk  to  and  fro;  the  hands  that  had  severed 
the  air  with  indignant  gestures  fell  listlessly  to  his  side, 
the  muscles  of  his  forehead  relaxed,  the  stern  expression 
of  his  mouth  softened,  and  he  sank  into  a  chair.  Out- 


124  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

side,  in  the  square  upon  which  the  lofty  windows  looked, 
a  scene  of  peace  presented  itself.  Three  or  four  palaces 
the  size  of  his  own  encompassed  it,  while  in  the  center 
was  a  smiling  garden,  in  which  bright  patches  of  color 
were  revealed,  and  surrounding  these  flowers,  the  light 
foliage  of  acacias  and  plane-trees,  silver  birches  and 
sycamores,  waved  in  a  cool  refreshing  breeze,  in  which 
the  birds  took  delight  in  twittering.  Overhead,  soft 
fleecy  clouds  floated  through  a  sky  of  azure  blue.  His 
eyes  sought  to  pierce  the  depths  between  these  gently- 
drifting  ridges,  that  presented  themselves  wave  on  wave 
like  the  waters  of  the  incoming  sea.  What  filled  those 
deep  blue  distances,  and  what  had  he  done  to  merit  a 
home  up  there,  where  the  choiring  angels  should  sing 
the  praises  of  their  Creator?  It  was  true  that  he  had 
fought,  that  he  had  been  galled  by  persecutions  and 
restrictions,  and  in  many  a  moment  of  his  strange  life, 
in  his  travels  and  in  his  work,  had  encountered  the  gibes 
to  which  his  despised  race  were  universally  subjected. 
But  what  of  that?  Had  not  the  Eternal  blessed  his 
efforts,  crowned  them  with  success,  made  him  rich,  in 
spite  of  the  malignity  of  his  enemies,  smiled  in  love  upon 
him  always?  In  return  for  all  this,  could  he  do  noth 
ing — nothing  but  build  some  synagogue  or  scatter  some 
alms,  to  give  which  he  had  to  deprive  himself  in  no 
way,  make  no  personal  sacrifice?  It  had  been  the  wish 
of  his  life  to  do  something  great,  to  confer  some  lasting 
benefit,  to  leave  some  fair  imperishable  record;  now 
here,  close  at  hand,  was  something  greater  than  a  uni 
versal  bank  or  a  successful  steamboat  venture.  Should 
circumstances  favor  him,  the  development  of  such 
schemes  as  these  would  be  easy;  but  the  thought  that 
had  entered  his  mind  was  the  father  to  a  gigantic  task, 
and  one,  moreover,  for  which  he  would  receive  no  public 
recognition,  no  reward  at  all,  too  probably. 

It  was  this.     To  return  what  seemed  to  him   to  be 
good  for  evil.    His  wife  had  sinned  against  him.    Instead 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  125 

of  driving  her  out,  acting  toward  her  as  he  had  intended 
and  as  the  bulk  of  men  would  have  done,  could  he  not 
continue  to  keep  her  near  him,  influence,  shelter  and 
protect  her  in  all  ways? 

Given  that  she  was  guilty  of  all  he  deemed  possible 
and  dreaded  most,  there  had  never  been  a  period  in  her 
existence  in  which  she  had  stood  in  so  much  need  of 
guidance,  consideration — in  a  word,  of  friendship — as 
the  one  she  had  now  reached.  But  was  he  capable  of 
such  an  effort,  of  such  complete  abnegation  of  self,  such 
almost  heroic  charity,  and  could  he  curb  his  anger, 
which  he  knew  to  be  at  times  both  hot  and  sudden? 

It  appeared  to  him  to  be  a  tremendous  undertaking, 
and  he  doubted  himself  sorely,  but  after  long  delibera 
tion  he  decided  in  favor  of  making  the  attempt. 

This  decision  and  the  further  desire  to  adhere  to  it,  to 
pledge  himself  in  fact,  occasioned  an  almost  immediate 
change  in  his  conduct,  and  though  he  went  cautiously 
to  work  to  begin  with,  so  keen  was  Sara's  power  of  per 
ception  where  he  was  concerned,  that  she  noticed  the 
alteration  at  once;  yet  with  his  ominous  threat  ex 
pressed  to  Bloch  ringing  in  her  ears,  she  very  naturally 
thought  that  something  had  pleased  him,  that  he  was 
in  an  unusually  amiable  frame  of  mind  and  no  more. 

However,  since  his  kinder  words  and  actions  contin 
ued,  she  slid  into  wondering,  soothed  and  pleased, 
doubting  the  evidence  of  her  own  senses,  yet  with  flut 
tering  pulse,  longing  to  leap  into  his  arms,  and  be  again 
to  him  as  she  had  once  been. 

In  this  mental  condition,  nearing  each  other  imper 
ceptibly,  almost  on  the  verge  of  spanning  the  chasm  that 
separated  them,  an  event  found  them  out  which  was  to 
work  its  will  upon  both,  developing,  changing,  affecting 
powerfully. 

They  were  together  in  the  quiet  of  evening  time;  ob 
jects  were  already  of  an  uncertain  size  and  color,  the 
birds  had  talked  themselves  silent,  and  a  few  marvel- 


126  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

ously  bright  stars  were  to  be  seen,  when  with  quiet  tread 
and  voice,  Riva  entered  to  tell  of  the  arrival  of  two 
strangers,  a  lady  and  gentleman,  who  wished  to  speak 
with  Hernani. 

"Show  them  in  here,"  was  his  answer  to  the  demand, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  a  young  man,  handsome  as  a  pic 
ture,  accompanied  by  a  young  girl  who  resembled  him 
in  many  respects,  entered  the  apartment. 

"Count  Dorozynski!"  exclaimed  Hernani,  almost  im 
mediately. 

"And  my  sister,  too,"  the  young  fellow  replied,  bow 
ing;  and  then  after  a  few  courteous  expressions,  glanc 
ing  round  the  room  suspiciously,  he  added,  "May  i 
speak?" 

"Freely.     Only  my  wife  can  hear  you." 

"Well,  then,  we  are  fugitives,  compelled  to  seek  shel 
ter  somewhere,  or  otherwise  I  should  not  have  presumed 
to  intrude  at  such  a  late  hour.  ' 

"Don't  give  that  a  thought — but — fugitives — 

"Yes." 

"How?    What  has  happened?" 

"Oh!  the  usual  thing." 

"The  police ' 

"Took  it  into  their  wise  heads  to  visit  us  by  day 
instead  of  night,  and  having  searched  the  place — or,  as 
I  might  better  describe  it,  tumbled  everything  upside 
down  in  spite  of  assurances  and  entreaties — how  should 
I  catch  them,  but  in  the  act  of  satisfying  themselves  as 
to  the  color  and  delicacy  of  my  poor  little  sister's  skin." 

"Hush!  Andrew,"  interposed  the  girl,  her  cheeks  rosy 
with  blushes. 

"No  necessity,  my  dear  child — we  are  with  friends  and 
married  folk;  besides,  I  am  still  savage  about  it,  so  let 
me  speak  out.  They  were  actually  stripping  her  in  the 
garden — think  of  that! — a  lot  of  dirty  Cossacks  pulling 
my  little  sister  about,  when  by  good  luck  I,  who  had 
been  out  shooting,  arrived  upon  the  scene.  Grasping 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  127 

the  situation  at  a  glance — and  who  wouldn't? — I  clubbed 
my  gun,  and  after  the  display  of  more  strength  and 
energy  than  I  believed  myself  capable  of,  I  succeeded 
in  rescuing  her  and  escaping  into  the  woods  at  the  back 
of  the  house.  Since  then  we  have  been  hiding  and 
maneuvering  like  so  many  thieves,  and  at  last  here  we 
are." 

"Where  you  are  cordially  entreated  to  remain,  and 
in  perfect  safety,  at  least  for  a  time." 

"That's  what  I  thought.  Amongst  my  own  peo 
ple 

"You  would  naturally  be  sought  for,  but  here,  in  the 
house  of  a  Jew,  no  one  would  ever  think  of  looking  for 
you." 

"True;  but  I  am  ashamed  of  myself.  I  shall  give  you 
a  lot  of  trouble,  and  I  hate  putting  people  out." 

"Now,  my  dear  Count,  you  must  dismiss  such  ideas 
from  your  mind.  My  wife  and  myself  in  our  joint  names 
bid  you  both  welcome.  Is  not  that  sufficient?  This 
is  a  time  of  trouble.  The  greater  part  of  this  house  is 
empty,  so  you  see  you  are  not  disturbing  anyone,  but 
merely  occupying  space  for  which  we  had  no  use.  You 
can  repay  me  by  discussing  at  greater  length  those  sub 
jects  upon  which — so  far — we  have  only  written.  We 
shall  be  able  to  exchange  ideas  much  more  freely  upon 
all  points.  The  unjust  treatment  you  have  experienced, 
together  with  the  brutal  insult  offered  to  your  sister, 
occasions  me  no  surprise,  simply  because  nothing  does; 
but  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  worst  cases  I  have  heard  of 
for  a  long  while  past,  and  the  effect  of  it  should  be  to 
unite  us ;  for  since  Poles  and  Jews  are  persecuted  alike, 
strength  to  resist  the  common  oppressor  of  both,  must 
be  sought  in  union.  Out  of  a  seeming  evil  much  good 
often  springs.  It  may  be  my  turn  to  be  ill-used  next 
— who  can  say?  But  if  anything  can  knit  us  firmly  to 
gether,  it  should  be  the  existence  of  such  lawlessness 
as  prevails." 


128  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

Dorozynski's  eyes  flashed,  and  his  well-drilled,  sym 
metrical  figure,  seemed  to  straighten  and  swell  with  pride 
and  patriotism  as  he  thundered — 

"It  must  be  so.  We  shall  be  one  united  body,  and 
the  result  will  be  that  again  the  Polish  eagles  will  flut 
ter  in  the  breeze.  Ah!  how  I  long  to  take  the  field,  to 
engage  the  scoundrels  and  exterminate  them.  And  as 
I  have,  perhaps,  told  you,  I  am  not  without  knowledge 
as  well  as  practical  experience.  I  have  studied  in  Paris, 
served  in  Hungary,  and  in  the  army  of  the  kingdom  of 
Italy,  so  that  I  am  fitted  to  play  my  part,  and,  like  a 
good  many  more,  am  only  consumed  with  the  desire  to 
begin." 

Hernani  gave  vent  to  a  satisfied  laugh.  Dorozynski 
was  so  refreshingly  full  of  life  and  fire. 

"But  we  cannot  be  too  cautious,"  he  replied;  "above 
all  things,  when  the  time  comes,  we  must  act  in  con 
cert." 

"Ah!  but  when  will  it  come?"  inquired  the  young 
fellow  with  a  long-drawn  sigh,  which  was  full  of  mean 
ing — "when  will  it  come,  that's  what  I  want  to  know. 
Meanwhile  one  must  wait,  while  one's  sisters  are  in 
sulted  before  one's  very  eyes,  one's  parents  driven  into 
the  grave.  Would  you  believe  it,  at  this  very  moment 
I  have  no  idea  what  has  happened  to  my  father.  When 
I  returned  in  the  manner  I  have  tried  to  describe,  my 
first  thought,  naturally  enough,  was  to  save  Deotima 
here  from  the  ruffians  in  whose  clutches  I  found  her.  I 
saw  no  sign  of  my  father,  and  had  I  done  so,  doubt  if  I 
could  have  been  of  use  to  him,  my  hands  were  too  full. 
Now  what  I  dread,  is  the  effect  the  shock  may  have 
upon  him.  You  see  he  is  very  old  and  feeble,  and  if 
they  would  touch  a  girl,  they  would  not  hesitate  to 
handle  him  roughly.  However,  there  is  little  use  in 
talking,  and  now  that  my  sister  is  in  a  place  of  safety, 
for  which  I  shall  be  eternally  grateful  to  you,  I  must 


HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

not  remain  idle.  It  won't  take  me  long  to  ascertain 
how  the  land  lies,  and  I  shall  start  at  once." 

"To  my  mind,  if  you  would  be  wise,  you  will  not  go," 
answered  Hernani  gravely;  "after  the  resistance  you 
have  made,  the  country  will  be  scoured  for  you.  You 
risk  almost  certain  detection  and  capture." 

"Risk?  I  love  it!"  laughed  Dorozynski  with  flashing 
eyes. 

"Yes,  that's  all  very  well;  but  picture  yourself  a  pris 
oner,  locked  up  in  the  Citadel,  or  some  more  isolated 
fortress,  incapable  of  escaping,  of  helping  your  father, 
your  sister,  or  your  country's  cause,  and  simply  because 
you  chanced  to  be  a  little  hot-headed." 

"But  I  have  no  choice." 

"Why?" 

"I  love  my  father-  and  cannot  leave  him  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  those  brutes." 

"I  sympathize  with  you  entirely,  but  in  all  probability 
the  whole  of  their  spleen  will  be  directed  against  you. 
You  are  the  only  son,  the  heir,  the  hope  of  your  father's 
old  age.  Do  you  think  they  are  unaware  of  these  facts? 
Ten  to  one,  they  will  have  left  him  uninjured  and  in 
undisputed  possession  of  his  house,  his  sole  anxiety  at 
this  moment  being  his  ignorance  of  the  fate  of  his  chil 
dren.  Now  take  my  advice;  remain  here,  enjoy  the 
rest  you  stand  in  need  of,  and  in  half  an  hour  I  will 
dispatch  a  messenger  in  whom  I  have  implicit  confi 
dence.  Mounted  as  he  shall  be,  he  will  soon  return 
with  all  the  information  you  require.  Don't  you  agree 
with  me,  Sara?"  he  added. 

"I  do.  In  my  opinion  the  Count  would  be  very  wrong 
to  go,"  answered  Sara,  with  a  kindly  glance  at  Doro 
zynski. 

"Oh!  well,  I  give  in,"  laughed  the  Count.  "When 
so  advised,  how  can  I  do  otherwise?" 

And  there  the  matter  rested,  the  returning  messenger 
9 


130  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

proving  to  the  hilt  the  soundness  of  Hernani's  predic 
tions. 

He  brought  word  that,  considering  the  shock  he  had 
received,  the  old  Count  was  well,  and  since  his  son  and 
daughter  were  safe,  as  contented  as  he  could  hope  to  be 
while  thus  torn  from  them.  They  were  not  to  trouble 
about  him,  but  to  be  sure  to  keep  him  well  posted  as  to 
their  health  and  movements. 

In  quite  a  short  space  of  time  the  brother  and  sister 
settled  down  in  their  new  quarters,  where  they,  found 
themselves  treated  with  such  kindness  that,  had  it  re 
quired  an  effort  on  their  part,  they  could  have  done  no 
less  than  strain  every  nerve  to  please  their  protectors. 
But  no  such  effort  was  needed.  The  two  women  had 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  each  other  at  sight,  and  this 
feeling,  so  instantly  awakened,  developed  with  speed. 
As  for  the  men,  Hernani  found  in  Count  Andrew  a 
patriot,  and  a  brave  one,  a  mixture  of  intelligent  sa 
gacity  and  headlong  courage,  almost  boyish  in  some  re 
spects,  hopeful  always,  and  invigorating  to  a  surprising 
degree.  Some  people  would  have  argued  that  the  com 
panionship  of  such  a  man,  at  such  a  moment,  was  a 
danger  to  be  shunned.  Hernani,  alive  to  the  risk, 
courted  it  as  befitting  the  hour. 

Here  was  one  who  was  to  play  a  stirring  part  in  his 
life,  some  still  small  voice  within  him  insisted;  well,  he 
was  disposed  to  offer  no  resistance;  he  might  be  the 
man  for  the  moment,  and  together  they  might  accom 
plish  much.  To  be  able  to  influence  a  young  officer  of 
tried  valor  and  intelligence,  might  be  of  great  advantage 
to  him  in  the  future.  Besides,  the  Count's  condition 
aroused  his  interest  and  sympathy,  the  mental  sketch  he 
had  rapidly  drawn  of  him,  if  rough,  being  vigorous  and 
of  this  type. 

His  mother,  dead  of  a  broken  heart,  in  consequence  of 
the  failure  of  the  1830  affair:  his  father,  half  ruined 
pecuniarily,  and  wholly  so  mentally;  his  sister,  the  ap- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  131 

pie  of  his  eye,  but  just  insulted  in  a  singularly  brutal 
way;  he  himself,  a  fugitive  from  the  home  of  his  child 
hood,  and  in  momentary  peril  of  arrest,  because  of  a  nat 
ural  display  of  promptitude,  spirit,  and  right  feeling. 
The  galling  sensation  of  belonging  to  a  conquered  and 
down-trodden  people  had  been  his  birthright,  and  to 
resent  such  oppression  had  been  the  one  great  lesson, 
taught  him  so  effectually  that  his  whole  being  had  be 
come  impregnated  with  it.  The  Count  had  freely  told 
him,  how  in  his  earlier  days  he  had  dreamt  of,  and  rev 
elled  in  the  doings  of  those  from  whom  he  had  de 
scended,  and  in  his  later  ones  had  burned  and  panted 
to  eclipse  their  gallant  deeds,  to  lay  down  his  life  for  his 
country,  and  win  it  back  again  from  the  cruel,  gray- 
coated,  stony-hearted  Muscovite.  Hernani  knew  that, 
with  this  aim  in  view,  he  had  strengthened  himself  by 
means  of  all  manly  exercise — practicing  thrift,  rigid 
economy,  working  early  and  late — the  result  being  that 
when  at  the  Ecole  Militaire  he  had  signally  distinguished 
himself,  and  when  in  the  pay  of  the  Austrian  and  Italian 
Governments  had  shown  such  aptitude  and  intelligence, 
that  he  had  been  twice  decorated  for  his  services.  With 
a  few  clear  touches  such  as  these,  he  sought  to  outline 
and  appreciate  Count  Andrew  Dorozynski.  In  his  sister, 
Deotima,  he  considered  that  he  saw  a  more  impulsive, 
if  possible,  more  patriotic  figure;  warm-hearted,  affec 
tionate,  truthful,  a  sister  worthy  of  such  a  brother,  and 
one  in  whose  heart  an  admiration,  amounting  almost  to 
adoration  of  that  brother,  ranked  before  her  love  of  her 
country,  even  before  her  hatred  of  the  Moskals.* 

These  were  the  sort  of  people  who,  in  Hernani's  opin 
ion,  had  come  beneath  his  roof;  and  in  so  considering 
them,  he  thought  of  them  merely  as  types  of  well-bred 
Poles. 


*Russians. 


132  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

Meanwhile  political  events  developed  with  speed,  ap 
pearing  in  hot  succession,  shaping  to  one  great  end. 

People  who  had  filled  the  churches,  and,  in  spite  of 
threats  from  the  authorities,  remained  there  praying  in 
honor  of  the  national  hero,  Kosciusko,  had  been  arrested 
and  carried  off  to  the  fortress  in  large  numbers. 

The  declaration  of  a  state  of  siege  had  checked  many 
of  the  outward  signs  of  rebellion.  The  hymn  or  prayer 
for  liberty  was  no  longer  borne  upon  the  breeze,  there 
were  no  more  discontented  gatherings  and  political 
celebrations,  and  apparently  the  Government  were  mas 
ters  of  the  situation. 

Yet,  though  the  Russian  chiefs  were  for  the  most  part 
ignorant  of  the  fact,  the  hidden  machinery  worked 
smoothly;  the  engines  of  agitation,  well  fed,  were  grind 
ing  at  top  speed  through  the  darkness  of  night.  The 
funds  of  the  Moderate  or  White  party  were  steadily 
swelling;  the  Reds  or  extreme  men  of  the  party  of 
action  were  marshaling  their  forces,  levying  taxes,  print 
ing  and  spreading  over  the  country  a  secret  journal, 
establishing  a  National  Committee,  which  was  to  de 
velop  into  the  Central  National  Committee,  and  thence 
into  the  National  Government.  Nothing  \vas  suffered 
to  stand  still,  the  great  cry  of  "Forward"  having  gone 
up. 

And  in  the  midst  of  this  energetic,  arduous  and  dar 
ing  movement,  glance  at  Hernani's  great  banking  ma 
chine. 

Every  tiny  wheel  worked  well  there,  by  not  so  much 
as  a  few  grains  of  dust  was  that  huge  money  mill  affect 
ed,  though  the  external  confusion  was  actually  terrific. 
Business  was  not  suffered  to  languish,  the  sinews  of  war 
did  not  stiffen,  and  were  kept  oiled  by  what  seemed 
magic,  and  people  who  knew  the  real  condition  of  affairs 
hurried  into  the  square,  only  to  find  all  quiet  and  orderly, 
smiling  and  prosperous  as  the  faces  of  the  intelligent 
and  hard-working  clerks,  the  polite  and  methodical 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  133 

cashiers  and  heads  of  departments,  strong,  and  appar 
ently  unassailable  as  its  calm  and  resolute  chief — Her- 
nani. 

Early  and  late  he  labored,  with  a  perseverance  equaled 
only  by  his  untiring  strength.  After  the  arduous  busi 
ness  day,  when  under  other  circumstances  he  would 
have  sought  complete  relaxation  of  some  kind,  he  dis 
cussed  fresh  schemes  and  attended  to  obligations  al 
ready  incurred,  and  of  a  varied  nature,  or  with  Doro- 
zynski  disguised  so  that  the  old  Count  himself  would 
have  failed  to  recognize  him,  penetrated  into  a  new  life, 
a  new  world — that  of  underground  Warsaw,  where  he 
controlled,  advised,  received  reports,  issued  instructions 
and  inspired,  as  many  had  grown  to  think,  he  alone 
could  inspire;  for  since  the  affair  of  the  square,  where 
he  had  seen  defenseless  people  indiscriminately  slaugh 
tered,  he  had  ceased  to  hold  himself  aloof — had,  in  fact, 
become  a  ruling  spirit. 

With  so  much  upon  his  hands,  it  followed  that  Sara 
was  thrown  into  Dorozynski's  society,  and  piqued  by 
the  chill  courtesy  with  which  Hernani  treated  her  when 
alone,  she  rather  encouraged  the  young  fellow's  evident 
admiration  for  her,  with  the  dangerous  object  of  kin 
dling  Hernani's  jealousy  if  she  could. 

In  the  presence  of  a  third  party,  his  treatment  of  her 
was  that  of  a  dignified  but  sufficiently  affectionate  hus 
band,  but  when  on  several  occasions  she  had  attempted 
to  break  through  the  reserve  he  affected  when  alone 
with  her,  she  had  endured  the  mortification  of  having 
her  advances  repelled. 

"I  don't  know  when  I've  laughed  so  much,"  she  told 
him  upon  one  occasion,  having  been  listening  to  some 
amusing  stories  of  Parisian  life  which  the  young  Count 
had  related  admirably. 

"You  think  him  entertaining?"  demanded  Hernani 
sharply. 

"Very." 


134  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Charming,  in  fact?" 

"Yes." 

"God  of  Israel,"  he  roared,  suddenly  beside  himself 
with  rage,  forgetful  of  his  good  resolutions  and  remem 
bering  only  his  fancied  wrongs,  "such  women  as  you 
ought  never  to  be  married!  Any  foolish  boy  can  pos 
sess  himself  of  all  the  trumpery  affection  you  are  capa 
ble  of." 

Sara  heard  him  in  speechless  amazement.  Was  he 
mad,  to  talk  so?  Then,  quickly  as  a  woman  would 
grasp  it,  the  real  meaning  of  his  behavior  flashed  upon 
her.  He  was  jealous.  Then  he  loved  her  still.  With 
her  beautiful  eyes  luminous  with  the  light  that  shone  in 
them  only  for  him,  she  extended  her  arms  as  though  to 
encircle  him,  to  lay  his  head  once  more  upon  her  bosom. 
Her  lips  parted  with  an  enraptured  smile,  and 

"Kasimir,  you  love  me — you  do  love  me!"  escaped 
her. 

For  one  brief  instant  she  was  on  the  verge  of  regain 
ing  him,  and  could  he  for  that  instant  have  remained 
dead  to  thought,  her  marvelous  beauty  must  have  tri 
umphed,  and  they  would  have  been  sobbing  deliriously 
in  each  other's  arms.  But,  alas!  poor  Sara;  disappoint 
ment  was  upon  her  swiftly.  The  very  means  she  had 
employed,  the  coquettish  effort  on  her  part  to  stir  his 
feelings,  to  say  to  him,  "See,  young  and  handsome  men 
spend  their  time  with  me  and  are  at  my  feet,"  coupled 
with  the  voluptuous  abandon  of  her  attitude,  were  to 
him  at  that  moment  only  fresh  proofs  of  her  shallow 
unworthiness,  possibly  infidelity.  All  men  were  one 
and  the  same  to  her,  the  heartless  hussy!  But  he  would 
be  fooled  no  longer.  It  was  time  he  broke  adrift  from 
such  snares,  snapped  such  worthless  ties.  To  do  so 
would  be  a  victory  for  him.  With  ill-suppressed  wrath 
he  just  contrived  to  hiss  between  his  clenched  teeth — 

"I_loveyou?  Oh!  do  I?  Ha!  na!  No:  I  did  once. 
but  that  piece  of  experience  was  enough."  And  turn- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  135 

ing  his  back  upon  her,  he  left  her  standing  watching 
him,  until  the  door  he  banged  behind  him  hid  him  from 
her  sight,  and  she,  cold  and  bloodless  as  marble,  sank 
nerveless  upon  the  soft  rug  spread  beside  her  bed. 

After  such  words  and  so  little  deserving  them,  some 
women  would  have  begun  to  dislike,  to  become  re 
vengeful,  to  keep  the  wound  his  bitterness  had  inflicted 
raw  and  gaping;  but  upon  Sara's  loving  nature,  ab 
sorbed  in  and  devoted  to  him  once  and  therefore  always, 
they  only  acted  as  the  whip  does  upon  the  dog,  and  had 
she  been  a  dog  she  would  have  pined  for  his  caresses; 
as  a  woman,  she  longed  for  him  more,  and  last  thing 
fell  on  her  knees  and  prayed  to  God  to  give  him  to  her. 

"The  master  is  jealous,"  said  Riva,  who  was  shrewd, 
and  kept  her  eyes  open  always,  where  her  mistress  was 
concerned;  "he  is  jealous,  so  he  loves  you  still,  my 
lamb.  Is  Riva  right?" 

"No,"  answered  Sara,  with  a  pain  in  her  face. 

"Then  what  is  amiss  with  him?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

"But  I  know,  my  love." 

"There  is  nothing  fresh." 

"But  there  is,  and  it  is  just  what  I  say.  He  is  jealous 
of  Count  Dorozynski,  and  I  don't  wonder.  What  a 
figure  and  face,  and  mad  for  love  of  you." 

"You're  a  fool,  Riva!"  screamed  Sara,  for  once  exas 
perated  beyond  control,  longing  almost  to  strike  the 
woman,  so  much  did  she  suffer. 

With  a  cloud  of  reproach  darkening  her  face,  and 
without  one  word,  Riva  just  gazed  at  her  reproachfully, 
then  left  the  room. 


136  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Another  day  had  ended  in  quietness,  and  the  evening 
had  come  on  with  a  gentle  and  refreshing  breeze,  in 
which  the  trees  in  the  great  quadrangle,  where  stood 
the  Hernani  palace,  rustled  and  waved  pleasantly.  Over 
head,  the  stars  were  flashing  distantly,  in  tremulous  sub 
mission  to  the  fuller  light  of  a  cloudless  moon,  in  the 
searching  rays  of  which,  the  houses  and  pavements  ap 
peared  dazzlingly  white. 

All  at  once,  the  silence,  which  had  been  that  of  a  city 
resting,  was  broken  by  the  heavy  and  regular  tramp  of 
a  little  knot  of  strong,  stout,  great-coated  figures,  who 
entered  the  square  and  deliberately  marched  along  one 
side  of  it  until  Hernani's  door  was  reached,  when  their 
leader  stepped  forward,  and  with  a  cautious  knock  de 
manded  admission.  Scratching  his  uncombed  hair  and 
blinking  furiously,  the  tired  and  startled  dvornik* 
crossed  himself  and  opened  to  the  summons.  An  in 
stant's  pause  while  a  few  words  were  whispered  in  the 
man's  ear,  and  the  fortress  was  stormed  and  won.  The 
compact  little  body  of  gendarmes  and  men  in  civil  dress 
clanked  up  the  steps,  to  the  right  and  left  of  which 
stretched  Hernani's  business  premises,  and,  passing 
through  a  massive  inner  door  which  the  dvornik  unhesi 
tatingly  opened  for  them,  stood  in  a  warmer  atmos 
phere,  amongst  the  exotics,  beneath  the  great  dome, 
where  stood  the  fountain  with  its  silvery  imagery  of 
the  oasis  and  the  tottering  form  of  the  parch-stricken 
Arab  dismounting  from  his  camel. 

A  slight  departure  from  the  usual  proceedings  was 

*Porter, 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  137 

now  noticeable.  Instead  of  dispersing  over  the  house, 
securing  the  screaming  women  and  alarmed  men  in 
their  very  bed-chambers,  in  obedience  to  an  order  from 
their  chief,  who  was  accompanied  by  a  red-bearded  and 
bulky  personage,  whose  behavior  was  that  of  a  specta 
tor,  the  party  halted  where  it  stood,  appearing  like  va 
body  of  bronze  statues  in  the  pale  silver  refulgence 
which  streamed  through  the  arching  glass  above  them. 

Meanwhile  the  dvornik,  frightened  and  wondering, 
had  dashed  up  the  main  staircase  and  communicated 
with  Hernani,  who  quickly  arrived  upon  the  scene, 
calm  and  self-possessed,  though  in  reality  disturbed, 
even  much  alarmed  by  the  unusual  occurrence. 

"You  have  a  warrant  for  this  intrusion?"  he  demand 
ed  in  a  firm  voice. 

"Undoubtedly,  or  we  should  not  be  here." 

"Have  the  goodness  to  show  it  to  me." 

"It  is  unnecessary.    You  are  Kasimir  Hernani?" 

"I  am." 

"Very  well;  we  will  proceed  with  our  work.  We 
shall  make  a  search.  You  will  give  us  every  assistance." 

Knowing  the  uselessness  of  remonstrance,  the  absurd 
ity  of  threats,  or  a  display  of  the  indignation  he  felt, 
Hernani  took  out  some  keys,  and  passing  down  the 
marble  steps  into  the  vestibule,  entered  the  banking  por 
tion  of  the  establishment,  followed  closely  by  the  police; 
one  man  alone  remaining  motionless  beneath  the  dome, 
as  if  on  guard,  watching  intently.  This  was  the  person 
age  whose  conduct  throughout  had  been  that  of  an  on 
looker.  t 

Abruptly  aroused  from  what,  for  a  wonder,  had  been 
a  refreshing  sleep,  and  agitated  as  any  woman  would  be 
under  such  trying  conditions,  Sara  at  once  thought  of 
Dorozynski  and  Deotima.  The  search  must  be  for 
them.  The  police  had  discovered  their  hiding-place, 
and  had  come  to  arrest  them.  With  speed  and  deftness 
she  thrust  her  little  bare  feet  into  slippers,  coiled  her 


138  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

hair  into  a  firmer  knot,  and,  enveloped  in  a  long  loose 
wrap  which  effectually  concealed  her  night  attire,  hur 
ried  to  Deotima's  room,  with  the  result,  that  in  a  couple 
of  minutes,  Count  Andrew  and  his  sister  were  descend 
ing  into  the  garden,  by  one  of  those  spiral  iron  staircases 
not  uncommon  in  old  Polish  houses. 

Consoled  by  the  reflection  that  she  had  done  her  best 
for  them,  and  that  in  the  quaint  old  garden,  favored  by 
the  hour  and  the  dense  shadows,  they  would  have  a  fair 
chance  of  escape,  Sara  next  went  to  reassure  some  of 
the  servants,  who  were  three  parts  panic-stricken,  and 
then,  anxious  about  Hernani,  and  feeling  that  her  place 
was  at  his  side,  she  hastened  to  join  him,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  gliding  noiselessly  between  a  clump  of  feath 
ery-leaved  bamboos  and  the  fountain,  when  from  out 
the  shade  of  the  plants  a  figure  advanced  and  a  voice 
said  in  low  but  authoritative  tones — 

"Madam,  a  word  with  you.  Let  us  go  in  here."  And 
stepping  up  to  the  curtained  door  of  the  very  room  in 
which  Sara  had  overheard  Bloch  and  Hernani  talking, 
the  man  opened  it  as  though  the  place  belonged  to  him, 
and  she  followed  mechanically,  thrown  off  her  guard  by 
the  strangeness  of  the  situation,  the  suddenness  of  the 
request  made  by  this  stout,  military-looking  personage, 
whose  face  was  hidden  by  the  large  flat-topped  cap  he 
wore  in  defiance  of  all  courtesy,  whose  shaggy  red  beard 
looked  savage  and  repulsive,  and,  .strange  to  say,  whose 
voice,  it  flashed  upon  her,  she  had  heard  before.  She 
could  not  divest  herself  of  this  idea,  and  also  for  the 
first  time  she  remarked  that  the  whole  place  was  lighted 
up;  this  room  into  which  she  had  been  invited  being 
illuminated  like  the  rest.  An  expression  of  irritation  stole 
over  her  face.  Her  fears,  then,  were  about  to  be  real 
ized.  She  would  be  forced  to  look  on,  while  the  sanctity 
of  her  home  was  violated,  her  beautiful  rooms  dese 
crated,  her  Lares  and  Penates  denied  by  the  hands  and 
feet  of  coarse  strangers.  This  great  unwieldy  brute,  this 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  139 

clumsy  Cossack  in  front  of  her,  how  dare  he  come  there 
at  dead  of  night  and  march  her  about,  addressing  her 
as  though  he  had  a  right  to  do  so!  The  thought  ex 
ploded  in  speech. 

"For  what  reason  have  you  invaded  us  in  this  man 
ner?"  she  demanded,  both  voice  and  bosom  betraying 
the  emotion  she  strove  to  control.  The  red-bearded 
man  smiled,  calm  and  secure  in  his  official  superiority. 

"Does  your  conscience  not  tell  you  that,  madam?" 
was  his  stern  yet  half  amused  reply. 

"My  conscience?     No." 

"It  is  possible  that  it  should.  However,  you  have 
lived  here  long  enough  to  understand  the  meaning  of 
this  visit.  The  police  wish  to  satisfy  themselves  that  all 
in  this  house  are  loyal  and  devoted  subjects  of  my  mas 
ter,  his  Imperial  Majesty,  the  Tsar." 

"No  cause  for  doubt  upon  the  subject  has  been  sup 
plied  to  them." 

"You  take  a  grave  responsibility  upon  yourself  when 
you  say  so." 

"I  believe  in  my  household  as  in  myself." 

"Misplaced  confidence  too  probably." 

"I  have  never  had  cause  to  doubt  them." 

"You  may  have;  and,  madam,  we,  the  police,  think 
differently  to  you,  though  by  all  the  Saints  I  hope 
wrongly,  or  we  should  not  have  disturbed  your  slum 
bers.  But  accept  my  assurance  that  there  is  no  desire 
to  annoy  you  or  anyone,  only  to  do  what  duty  demands, 
quietly  and  well." 

The  soothing  effect  of  the  last  few  conciliatory  words 
was  somewhat  marred  by  the  entrance  of  the  chief  of 
the  search  party,  who,  with  an  apology  for  the  inter 
ruption,  delivered  a  little  bundle  of  papers. 

"These  documents  may  prove  important,  sir,  and  1 
would  draw  your  attention  more  especially  to  this  one," 
he  remarked,  with  an  air  of  respectful  deference.  Then, 
receiving  no  reply  that  detained  him,  he  retired. 


140  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"This  one?  Ah!  let  us  see.  Why,  what  have  we 
unearthed?  There  can  be  no  doubt.  Some  statistics 
and  remarks  concerning  the  insurrectionary  movement. 
Some  value  may  attach  to  this."  Then,  fixing  his  keen 
eyes  upon  Sara  as  though  he  would  read  her  very  soul,  he 
continued  in  an  easy,  chaffing  voice,  "You  see,  madam, 
the  police  are  not  always  wrong.  Would  you  guaran 
tee  the  good  conduct  of  your  whole  household  now?  I 
think  not,  I  think  not.  Ah!  the  police  are  cunning,  very 
cunning,  I  assure  you.  Their  scent  is  keen,  and  some 
times  it  enables  them  to  seek  so  well  that  they  find  all 
sorts  of  queer  things.  But  what  is  this?  A  signature 
quite  carelessly  scribbled  in  the  corner.  Another  sur 
prise!  Madam,  it  strikes  me  that  this  is  not  a  case  of 
answering  for  your  servants,  but  for  yourself.  This 
document  is  signed — Sara  Hernani.  I  have  reason  to 
believe — are  you  that  lady?" 

"I  am." 

"That  is  unfortunate,  decidedly.  May  I  inquire 
whether  you  are  aware  of  what  the  discovery  of  this 
means,  what  kind  of  fate  will  probably  be  yours,  in  con 
sequence  of  having  written  such  words  and  figures  at 
such  a  time?  Your  beauty  will  not  avail  you  any  bet 
ter  than  your  prayers.  Your  own  handwriting  con 
demns  you.  You  thought  to  help  set  a  trap,  and  you 
have  fallen  into  it.  It  is  a  pity." 

Sara  was  alarmed,  greatly  so,  but  her  fears  were  not 
defined.  They  had  yet  to  strike  her  with  all  their  be 
numbing  force.  Besides,  it  would  be  foolish  to  give 
way;  she  must  be  brave  and  make  a  good  fight  of  it. 
Pointing  to  the  paper,  she  said,  though  with  -a  hand 
that  shook — 

"It  is  ridiculous;  those  remarks  cannot  harm  me; 
they  are  merely  my  own  private  views." 

"Private  opinions  reduced  to  writing,  and  of  sufficient 
importance  to  be  placed  in  your  husband's  custody  are 
dangerous.  However,  you  know  best,  madam." 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  141 

"But  I  have  done  nothing,"  she  gasped,  led  on  by  this 
cunning  allusion  to  her  judgment. 

"I  have  told  you  what  I  think.  If  these  opinions  of 
yours  leave  my  hands,  nothing  can  save  you.  In  Russia 
we  have  strange  and  summary  methods  of  dealing  with 
such  offenses.  People  guilty  of  them  are  generally 
never  heard  of  again,  and  I  repeat,  that  should  I  see 
fit,  nothing  can  save  you  from  the  punishment  I  have 
described." 

White  to  the  lips  and  tongue-tied,,  Sara  clutched  a 
chair  for  support  and  sank  into  it.  Under  the  lash  of 
such  brutal  allusions  she  gripped  the  situation  with  ter 
rible  distinctness.  She  would  be  torn  from  her  hus 
band  and  her  home  there  and  then.  Her  body  would 
be  mutilated  with  the  awful  knout.  She  would  be  dead, 
and  yet  alive,  a  prisoner  for  life  in  Siberia.  So  color 
less  did  she  become,  so  like  dying  on  the  spot,  as  these 
appalling  thoughts  leapt  upon  her,  that  her  tormentor, 
who  had  evidently  miscalculated  his  strength  to  endure 
the  sight  of  her  anguish,  sprang  to  her  assistance,  his 
arm  upon  her  shoulder,  his  threatening  tones  gone. 

"But  listen,  madam;  it  may  not  come  to  that — there 
should  be  no  necessity.  Those  who  know,  can  be  si 
lenced.  They  are  my  slaves.  It  shall  be  for  you  to  de 
cide.  I  can — ah!  I  will  keep  up  this  farce  no  longer. 
We  shall  be  disturbed,  and  then —  Open  your  eyes 
and  look  at  me.  Do  you  hear?  See — this  beard  is  a 
false  one." 

Sara  did  just  hear,  could  just  open  her  eyes  sufficient 
ly  to  see  that  the  man  bending  over  her  was  his  Ex- 
'cellency  the  Governor-General,  who,  as  if  to  leave  no 
doubt  of  the  fact,  added — 

'T  am  General  Hourko,  and  no  one  knows  it  but  your 
self  and  the  chief  of  the  gendarmes;  so  you  see,  on 
your  part  you  have  a  little  secret  to  keep,  which  I  will 
help  you  to  do  by  assuming  my  disguise.  Come — don't 
be  alarmed.  I  had  no  intention  of  betraying  myself,  but 


142  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

you  would  have  fainted,  and  I  have  no  wish  to  give  you 
pain.  As  I  have  told  you  all  along,  I  take  an  interest 
in  you." 

Hourko  had  stepped  back  to  readjust  the  deceptive 
tuft  of  red  hair,  as  well  as  to  survey  Sara,  and  gloat  over 
her  beauty.  Having  sunk  back  nerveless  in  the  large 
chair,  her  slippered  feet  were  half  exposed  to  his  roving 
gaze,  ana  at  sight  of  their  tempting  whiteness,  passion 
gleamed  in  his  eyes,  while  his  large,  strong-jawed  face 
reddened  as  the  blood  leapt  into  it. 

Recovering  herself  with  a  great  effort,  Sara  saw  the 
look  and  understood  its  meaning. 

"You,"  she  said  feebly — "you  take  an  interest  in  me?" 

"A  great  one,  believe  me.  You  need  fear  nothing 
from  this  document.  It  will  be  perfectly  safe  in  my 
keeping;  you  have  only  to  be  a  little  more  considerate 
for  me.  This  descent  upon  you  was  my  planning.  I 
wanted  to  see  you,  to  hear  your  voice,  to  feast  my  eyes 
upon  you.  And  I  had  pictured  you  just  as  I  have  found 
you,  in  this  charming  dishabille,  only  you  are  a  thou 
sand  times  lovelier  than  my  imagination  had  painted 
you.  See — now  I  have  explained,  you  have  no  cause 
for  alarm.  You  must  have  confidence  in  me,  that  is  all. 
There  must  be  a  perfect  understanding  between  us.  I 
would  bring  pleasure  into  your  life,  not  pain." 

A  growing  sense  of  dread  and  distrust  stole  over  Sara. 
Her  limbs  trembled  from  the  unwonted  excitement.  Her 
whole  body  shook  with  nervousness.  She  was  conscious 
too  of  anger  mingled  with  disgust.  The  meshes  of  this 
strong  man's  net  were  closing  around  her.  In  spite  of 
her  struggles  she  was  more  completely  encompassed 
than  ever.  And  he  had  dared  to  approach  her  at  dead 
of  night,  and  beneath  her  husband's  roof  had  poured 
poisonous  words  into  her  ears.  The  desperate  situation 
in  which  she  found  herself,  suddenly  acted  like  a  tonic. 
She  was  not  only  strong  again,  she  was  reckless.  If 
her  life  was  at  this  man's  mercy,  if  it  was  to  take  what 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  143 

shape  he  pleased,  and  drag  to  its  close  in  pain  and  suffer 
ing,  at  least  there  need  be  no  degradation  in  it,  since 
her  honor  would  remain  to  the  end  unblemished.  She 
stood  up  erect. 

"You  would  give  me  no  pain — then  leave  me.  There 
can  be  no  understanding — as  you  call  it — between  us, 
since  no  honest  woman  could  listen  to  the  language  you 
have  used  without  feeling  insulted.  There  are  some 
women  who  prefer  death  to  dishonor.  I  am  one  of 
them." 

Hourko's  face  was  swept  by  emotions.  Was  it  possi 
ble  that  he,  the  Governor  of  Poland,  the  Tsar's  repre 
sentative,  should  be  so  spoken  to,  snubbed,  taught  the 
meaning  of  the  word  honor,  and  by  a  Jewess?  His  ears 
tingled.  How  absurd;  he  was  not  going  to  accept  such 
a  ridiculous  situation.  She  was  acting,  going  into  hero 
ics,  playing  the  highly  virtuous  role,  so  as  to  increase 
her  value  in  his  eyes.  All  through  his  life  his  experi 
ence  had  taught  him,  that  this  exalted  twaddle,  ran  skin- 
deep  only — was,  in  short,  mere  gilding. 

"You  misunderstand  me,"  he  said  insinuatingly. 

"Unfortunately  I  do  not." 

"You  are  mistaken.  We  shall  come  to  know  each 
other  better,  and  then  you  will  regret  your  words." 

"May  the  God  of  my  fathers  forbid" — and  then,  over 
wrought,  in  despair:  "Your  Excellency  forgets  that  for 
the  oppressed  there  is  the  grave;  but  as  a  Russian  offi 
cer  you  cannot  forget  that  your  presence  is  an  infliction 
to  an  unprotected  Jewess." 

"Cannot  forget  what!  By  all  the  Saints,  you  shall 
have  cause  to  regret  these  insults!"  exclaimed  Hourko, 
placing  the  little  bundle  of  papers  in  his  pocket,  and 
half  turning  on  his  heel  to  go.  "But,  no — I  won't  get 
angry  with  you.  If  I  left  you  in  this  way,  I  should  only 
blame  myself  five  minutes  after.  I  have  a  quick  temper, 
which  luckily  does  not  last  long.  But,  as  I  have  said,  you 
must  treat  me  with  a  little  more  consideration.  It  is 


144  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

only  reasonable.  Because  I  admire  you,  and  in  a  weak 
moment,  when  you  were  terribly  distressed,  told  you  so, 
boldly,  bluntly,  if  you  like,  I  don't  see  why  you  should 
jump  to  the  conclusion  that  I  wish  to  wrong  you.  Why 
think  ill  of  me  without  a  cause?" 

His  sudden  change  of  front  was  admirable.  He  was 
tender  but  respectful.  Paying  homage  at  the  feet  of 
beauty,  imploring  only  to  be  heard.  And  he  had  calcu 
lated  the  effect  of  this  alteration  in  his  manner  to  a  nicety. 
Sara  was  partly  disarmed  at  once. 

"I  think  ill  of  no  one  unjustly.  God  forbid,"  she  mur 
mured  in  a  low  and  quivering  voice,  that  told  how  she 
longed  to  find  a  friend  and  kindness,  rather  than  an 
enemy  and  strife. 

"But  have  I  ever  injured  you  in  any  way?  Tell  me 
that." 

"No — not  that  I  know  of." 

"Then  dismiss  the  idea  that  I  am  capable  of  such  un- 
kindness  from  your  mind,  and  judge  me  as  you  have 
found  me.  You  will  recognize  the  truth  of  what  I  say, 
when  I  tell  you  that  you  stand  in  much  need  of  friends, 
and  that  events  ahead  will  render  that  need  constantly 
more  pressing;  is  it  not  so?" 

"It  is  true." 

"Then  count  on  me  a  little.  You  tell  me  that  there  can 
be  no  understanding  between  us;  my  reply  is  that  for 
your  sake  there  must  be ;  otherwise,  who  is  to  keep  your' 
and  your  husband's  head  above  ground.  Supposing  that 
I  do  not  suppress  this  document,  but  allow  the  law  to 
take  its  course,  your  arrest  and  his  would  follow  at  once.''' 

"His?     Why?" 

"He  is  guilty  of  many  things.  And  those  things  are  all 
known.  Everything  is  known.  The  walls  listen,  and 
we  know  what  they  hear.  Do  you  understand  me?  Now 
let  the  commencement  of  this  little  compact  between  us, 
be  your  silence  as  to  my  visit  and  my  words.  Mind,  tell 
no  one,  or  it  will  be  told  to  me  again.  Now  I  must  go; 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  145 

be  easy  at  heart.    I  shall  find  means  to  communicate  with 
you  when  it  is  advisable." 

"But—     "  stammered  Sara. 

"Hush!  It  must  be  as  I  say/'  he  interrupted,  and 
without  giving  her  time  for  more  words,  with  a  quick 
movement  he  seized  her  hand,  pressed  it  firmly  in  his 
strong  grasp,  and  then,  like  a  dark  shadow,  left  the  room. 

''So  her  husband  is  her  weak  point,"  he  muttered,  as 
without  word  or  order  he  clanked  down  the  entrance 
steps,  and,  with  the  old  dvornik  bowing  low  from  fear  of 
him,  emerged  into  the  night  air;  "the  fortress  must  be 
stormed  from  that  side.  I  thought  so,  I  had  my  sus 
picions,  but  I  had  to  be  cautious  in  alluding  to  him ;  now 
I  know,  and  it  is  always  good  to  know.  This  intrigue 
grows  in  excitement  and  interest,  and  without  excite 
ment  of  this  sort  I  should  die.  How  lovely  she  is,  and 
what  a  fright  she  was  in!  Perhaps  I  was  an  ass  to  let 
her  know  who  she  was  dealing  with — perhaps  I  have 
been  stupid — but  no  matter.  If  I  thought  she  was  genu 
ine  now — virtuous — ah!  if —  And  with  a  yawn,  ex 
pressive  of  the  gravest  doubt  on  that  score,  Hourko 
hailed  a  droshky  and,  jumping  into  it,  rattled  away  in  the 
direction  of  the  palace. 

Within  an  hour  after  he  had  gone  the  Hernani  man 
sion  became  as  dark  as  the  grave.  The  police  had  disap 
peared  as  they  had  come,  like  specters.  White  and  shiv 
ering,  Sara  had  returned  to  bed,  and  the  whole  house 
hold  had  followed  her  example  and  that  of  Count  Do- 
rozynski  and  his  sister,  who  had  gladly  exchanged  their 
temporary  imprisonment  in  the  garden,  for  the  comfort 
of  their  own  rooms,  where  curled  up  in  warmth,  the 
Count  fell  asleep,  firmly  impressed  with  the  belief  that 
Sara  was  as  cool  and  plucky  as  she  was  beautiful,  and 
that  to  her  courage  and  tact,  he  and  Deotima  were  in 
debted  for  their  continued  liberty. 

With  one  swift  searching  glance,  the  effect  of  General 
Hourko's  strange  visit  can  be  grasped. 
11 


146  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

Sara  herself  felt  prostrated,  and  with  racked  brain  and 
wide  open  eyes  lay  staring  into  the  blackness  of  the  com 
ing  day.  She  had  been  in  no  way  prepared  for  this  last 
blow,  and  it  seemed  one  calculated  to  stun  the  strongest. 
How  could  she  summon  courage  to  fight  against  such 
odds,  and  what  was  to  be  her  end?  were  the  questions 
she  put  to  herself.  Was  she  indeed  doomed  to  be  torn 
from  her  husband,  to  become  the  plaything  of  a  human 
tiger,  notwithstanding  her  efforts,  her  prayers?  And 
then,  was  she  to  be  lost  in  the  mists  of  the  Siberian  night, 
to  be  thrust  into  that  hideous  country  from  which  so  few 
ever  returned?  How  often  had  women  of  her  persuasion 
met  with  such  deaths.  All  the  saddest  and  most  terrible 
stories  of  cases  told  her  by  those  whose  word  she  could 
trust,  recurred  to  her.  The  closed  cells  of  her  mind 
opened  for  the  escape  of  harrowing  details,  until  that  mo 
ment  forgotten  for  years.  A  sensation  of  helplessness 
and  loneliness  indescribable  stole  over  her.  She  was  like 
a  hunted  animal  with  the  hot  breath  of  her  pursuers  upon 
her,  strength  and  heart  failing,  and  no  aid  at  hand.  Sunk 
in  this  despair  for  hours,  gradually  she  rallied,  and  as  her 
mind  cleared,  the  natural  buoyancy  of  her  nature  as 
serted  itself.  With  all  the  ills  she  had  reckoned  against 
her,  what  could  she  count  on  her  side?  There  was  com 
parative  youth,  health,  and  beauty,  and  in  addition,  cour 
age;  for  forced  into  this  critical  situation,  into  this  cor 
ner  from  which  there  seemed  no  escape,  she  began  to  feel 
the  existence  of  this  superb  quality.  Timidity  would  not 
serve  her;  the  time  had  come,  or  was  close  upon  her, 
when  unaided  she  must  either  swim  upon  the  turbulent 
waters  surrounding  her,  or  sink  in  weakness,  perhaps 
misery.  And  after  all,  nothing  that  the  future  hid,  could 
crush  her  as  the  sound  of  Hernani's  voice  had  done, 
when  he  had  thundered,  "Any  day  I  may  have  to  divorce 
my  wife."  Those  words  still  stood  out  with  cutting  clear 
ness.  Once  again,  for  an  instant,  it  occurred  to  her  to 
go  to  him,  to  tell  him  the  whole  history  of  her  dealings 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  147 

with  Hourko,  and  seek  his  protection  and  advice;  but 
her  pride,  hardening  with  the  recollections  of  the  things 
he  had  said  and  done,  forbade  the  step.  Had  he  not  told 
her  that  he  no  longer  loved  her?  What  more  did  she 
want?  She  would  say  nothing. 

If  he  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  the  paper  she 
had  covered  with  figures,  and  her  own  ideas,  and  had 
playfully  laid  before  him,  hoping  to  say  to  him  by  the 
simple  act,  "See — I  am  interested  in  whatever  interests 
you,"  so  much  the  better.  She  would  cause  him  less 
anxiety.  More  fortunate  still,  he  might  never  miss  it, 
might  have  forgotten  all  about  it,  or  believe  he  had  de 
stroyed  it. 

So  when  the  two  met  in  the  light  of  day  neither  could 
read  the  face  of  the  other,  for  Hernani  did  know,  and 
was  acting  as  cleverly  as  she  was,  though  trembling  for 
her  the  while.  Signs  of  anxiety  were  soon  apparent  in 
the  others.  Dorozynski,  naturally  capable  of  grappling 
with  difficulties,  was  silent  and  preoccupied,  as  though  a 
problem  had  presented  itself  for  solution;  something  he 
did  not  quite  like  to  talk  of,  did  not  know  how  to  talk  of. 
Deotima,  usually  as  blithe  as  the  birds  she  had  learned 
to  love,  in  the  woods  and  pastures  round  the  old  chateau 
where  she  had  been  born,  evidently  had  some  weight 
upon  her  mind.  The  coils  of  her  fair  hair  were  less  care 
fully  confined,  and  her  cheeks  were  paler,  while  her  large 
blue  eyes  were  heavy  from  sleeplessness.  As  tall  as  her 
brother — Count  Andrew  being  a  small  man  when  com 
pared  with  Hernani — the  young  people  presented  a 
marked  contrast  side  by  side  on  the  staircase,  where  they 
stood  talking;  she  so  fair,  with  snowy  neck  and  hands, 
and  with  eyes  like  the  sky  after  an  April  shower — he,  lean, 
compact  and  soldier-like,  with  aquiline  nose,  and  close- 
cropped,  curly  black  hair. 

"What  shall  we  do,  Andrew?"  she  asked  for  the  third 
or  fourth  time. 

"Oh!    I'll  think  it  over.    Don't  you  worry,  little  one." 


148  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"How  can  I  help  it?" 

"But  try." 

"It's  impossible.     We  must  go  from  here." 

"Why?" 

"We  must." 

"But  why?" 

"Because  it  would  be  unsafe  to  remain." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that." 

"Andrew!" 

"How  can  we  move?  Besides,  probably,  they  dare  not 
arrest  us — the  biutes!" 

"Dare  not?     Why?" 

"Because  we  are  Dorozynskis.  That  should  be  suffi 
cient." 

"Just  why  they  should  seize  us." 

"Well,  don't  distress  yourself — leave  it  to  me." 

And  then  came  a  meal,  during  which  the  conversation 
was  disjointed,  each  one  having  more  than  enough  to 
think  of,  Hernani  furtively  devouring  Sara,  as  though  he 
were  looking  his  last  upon  her,  before  the  entrance  of 
the  police  who  were  to  tear  her  from  him — this  woman 
upon  whom  he  doted,  every  particle  of  whose  flesh  was  a 
thousand  times  dearer  to  him  than  his  own,  for  whom 
he  had  lived  and  striven,  and — if  he  might  judge  by  the 
anguish  he  endured,  and  had  endured  for  her — whose 
death  would  occasion  his  own — this  woman  was  to  be 
torn  from  him  at  any  moment,  wealth  and  personal  stand 
ing  availing  him  nothing.  Dirty-fisted,  half-washed  fel 
lows,  whose  very  breath  was  pollution,  would  lay  hands 
upon  her,  revelling  in  the  chance  afforded  them  of  hand 
ling  and  insulting  so  perfect  a  specimen  of  womanhood. 
His  inability  to  prevent  it  would  equal  that  of  an  infant. 
In  some  filthy  prison  she  would  remain  unfed  and  un 
washed;  she  would  become  emaciated  and  her  hair  \vould 
grow  gray  and  fall  off.  In  an  agony  of  spirit,  he  started 
from  the  table,  abruptly  excusing  himself  for  his  depart 
ure.  Then,  after  a  time,  when  a  moment  served,  with 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  149 

quivering  lips  and  a  tongue  dry  as  though  fire-scorched, 
he  unburdened  himself  to  Dorozynski — told  him  every 
thing;  how  that  this  document  was  as  damning  as  words 
could  make  it,  under  an  unkind  eye,  adding  his  fears  and 
reasons  for  dreading  the  worst. 

"And  now,  what  am  I  to  do?"  he  finally  demanded. 

"Are  you  sure  that  she  knows  nothing  and  suspects 
nothing?"  inquired  the  Count. 

"Certain.     How  should  she?'' 

"Then,  my  friend,  cost  what  it  may,  you  must  keep 
silence,  and  should  she  ask  about  this  precious  paper, 
which,  were  I  hard-hearted  I  might  blame  you  for  not 
having  destroyed,  be  ready  with  the  best  lie  and  the 
smoothest  face  you  can  summon.  Poor  thing,  she  would 
be  half  dead  with  fright  if  she  knew  what  we  do.  Keep 
her  in  ignorance — that  is  the  only  plan." 

"But  they  may  return  to  arrest  her  at  any  moment." 

"Good  heavens!     I  forgot  that — and  you  too." 

"Of  course.  For  me  it  is  all  right;  I  can  suffer.  Ah! 
I  am  well  used  to  it." 

"But  you  forget — our  country  is  in  bondage  for  lack 
of  men  with  heads  and  hearts  like  yours.  You  are  a 
power.  Don't  let  us  think,  much  less  speak  of  such  mis 
fortunes,  such  horrors.  One  thing  is  certain — flight  is 
useless.  Even  with  your  experience  it  would  fail,  and 
by  the  simple  attempt,  guilt  would  be  admitted.  But,  a 
word  for  one  instant,  if  you  will  forgive  me  for  talking 
about  myself,  which  but  for  my  sister  I  would  not  do. 
What  should  be  my  course?  Shall  I  leave  here?" 

"On  no  account." 

"I  could  hide  in  a  score  of  dens,  where  I  should  be 
safe." 

"And  take  your  sister?" 

"Ah!  that's  the  difficulty.  I  don't  want  to  drag  her 
into  roughing  it,  though  she  would  glory  in  it.  Perhaps 
Zamoyski  would  help  me." 

"Count  Zamoyski  can  help  no  one — will  not  be  able 


150  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

even  to  help  himself  if  Wielopolski  has  his  way.  Is  it 
not  clear  to  you?  The  Marquis " 

"Whom  no  man  loves." 

"Yet  who  means  well,  I  firmly  believe,  will  stomach  no 
rivals.  In  his  opinion,  any  more  fingers  in  his  pie  will 
spoil  it;  so  with  him  it  is — take  them  out  or  they  will  be 
burnt.  Besides,  Zamoyski  is  too  anxious  to  stand  well 
with  the  government,  to  be  tempted  into  helping  a  noble 
man  such  as  yourself,  who,  in  the  cold  eyes  of  that  gov 
ernment,  is  under  a  cloud — forgive  me  for  the  expres 
sion.  No — be  advised.  Remain  where  you  are.  You 
are  welcome,  you  are  wanted,  and  I  firmly  believe  you 
are  safe,  or  I  would  be  the  last  to  say  'Stay.'  This  police 
visit  was  not  on  your  account,  rest  assured.  Ah!  our 
talk  has  soothed  me,  set  my  brain  working  and  nerved 
me,  so  that  I  feel — even  with  all  these  troubles  weighing 
me  down — strong  as  a  lion.  They  have  yet  to  discover 
what  it  means  to  press  and  fight  with  a  man  like  me. 
Listen;  we  must  arrange  so  that,  should  this  house  be 
forcibly  entered,  we  can  escape  through  the  garden  and 
the  door  in  the  wall  I  have  shown  you,  into  our  good 
friend  Nikolay  Brauman's  premises,  and  thence  else 
where." 

"But  you  may  have  spies  amongst  your  servants." 

"I  don't  think  it." 

"Or  if  that  is  not  so,  some  of  your  employes  will  be  in 
touch  with  these  accursed  police.  Would  I  had  the 
whole  body  of  them  by  the  throat." 

"Again,  I  don't  think  it.  I  have  selected  them  all  with 
the  greatest  care,  and  have  treated  them,  without  excep 
tion,  generously  enough  to  attach  them  to  me." 

""In  that  case,  there  may  be  ten  spies  where  one  might 
have  been  looked  for.  Such  is  human  nature." 

"I  disagree  with  you.  If  you  would  be  trusted,  you 
must  trust.  I  selected  these  people  because  I  knew  they 
hated  the  existing  state  of  things,  and  I've  trusted  them 
because  I  have  in  part  proved  them  to  be  worthy  of  my 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  15 1 

confidence.  No;  I  refuse  to  rake  up  doubts  of  this  kind. 
We  are  not  responsible  for  what  we  cannot  help,  and 
therefore  should  not  consider." 

"True." 

"As  a  rule  you  are  so  confident,  so  cheerful." 

"And  so  I  am  now,  only  our  uninvited  visitors  have 
made  me  feel  that  caution  of  the  closest  kind  must  be 
exercised." 

Hernani  tugged  at  his  long  moustache  unconsciously. 
Then,  rising  from  his  chair  with  an  expressive  gesture  of 
approval,  he  exclaimed — 

"Ah!  now  you  have  it.  That  is  the  lesson  we  must  lay 
to  heart.  Caution.  In  addition,  we  want  time — and  if 
we  get  it  we  need  not  despair ;  we  shall  accomplish  great 
things.  My  fear  from  the  first  has  been  that  you  were 
too  impulsive." 

Dorozynski  smiled. 

"And  this  has  struck  you,  because  occasionally,  it  is 
the  greatest  relief  to  me  to  give  free  vent  to  my  feelings. 
I  have  got  into  a  habit  of  talking  to  you  as  I  talk  to  no 
one  else." 

"Keep  to  it;  you  shall  never  regret  it.  But  in  the 
midst  of  misfortunes  here  is  some  good  news  for  you.  T 
learn  that  we  are  doing  wonders  by  means  of  our  secret 
press.  The  country  will  soon  be  as  one  man,  united, 
irresistible.  Subscriptions  for  large-  amounts  are  pour 
ing  in,  enlistments  are  frequent,  and  by  means  of  wide 
spread  connections,  arms,  in  fair  quantities,  are  traveling 
towards  us,  slowly  but  surely.  The  day  is  not  far  dis 
tant  when,  if  it  seems  well,  we  shall  be  strong  enough  to 
rise  en  masse,  and  then  for  a  rush  upon  the  Citadel.  We 
shall  overpower  the  troops,  and  Warsaw  will  be  ours." 

"I  shall  be  in  the  front;  you  will  see  me  in  the  front," 
shouted  the  Count,  unable  to  restrain  his  enthusiasm. 

"You  are  right,  and  in  the  front  we  shall  both  be,  with 
a  sea  of  good  men  behind  us.  The  thought  makes  me 
ten  years  younger.  But  now  we  must  do,  not  talk.  Ah! 


152  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

if  I  could  only  know  what  steps  the  police  will  take. 
What  a  fool  I  was  not  to  have  destroyed  that — in  fact, 
all  the  papers.  Strange  how  it  could  escape  me."  And 
Hernani  heaved  a  sigh  that  shook  his  large  shoulders. 

Before  many  days  were  out,  since  no  demand  for  ad 
mittance  rang  through  the  house,  no  visit  in  force  at 
dead  of  night  was  made,  Hernani  found  himself  grow 
ing  interested  in  watching  Sara  closely.  She  seemed  to 
him  unlike  the  same  woman.  Instead  of  the  anxious 
dependency  upon  others,  the  looking  out  for  love,  for 
sympathy  and  attention,  which  he  had  thought  to  be  a 
part  of  her  nature,  and  had  admired,  though  latterly  had 
much  ignored,  she  behaved  as  though  she  had  suddenly 
learned  a  lesson  of  self-reliance  not  to  be  forgotten.  But 
by  whom  or  what  was  she  inspired?  Restless  and  rapid 
in  speech  and  movement,  she  was  simply  a  masculine 
edition  of  Sara,  wound  up  to  go  at  speed.  Not  an  in 
stant  of  her  day  was  spent  with  her  old  tranquillity.  She 
was  wearing  herself  out,  in  a  high  state  of  fever,  and 
what  was  the  cause?  Did  she  know  of  the  action  of  the 
police,  and  in  consequence  of  the  position  she  was  placed 
in,  or  more  properly,  they  were  placed  in?  But  that 
idea  was  no  sooner  thought  of  than  dismissed.  She 
could  not  know;  it  was  impossible.  Much  more  likely, 
he  reasoned,  that  with  the  keen  perceptive  faculty  of  her 
sex,  she  scented  the  nearer  approach  of  the  threatening 
crisis.  That  was  it.  The  conversations  between  Do- 
rozynski  and  himself  were  sufficient;  she  had  overheard 
them  and  was  agitated.  For  the  future  he  must  be  more 
careful,  for  though  she  had  treated  him  ill,  had  secrets, 
was  even  false  to  him  as  he  feared,  he  had  no  wish  to 
alarm  and  harass  her  by  constant  allusions  for  which  her 
temperament  was  unsuited.  And  all  the  while  Sara  was 
flitting  about  him,  regarding  him  with  the  eyes  of  love, 
longing  to  cast  all  pride  to  the  four  winds,  praying  God 
that  they  might  be  reconciled  if  only  for  a  day,  and  re- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  153 

garding  with  terror  the  future,  in  which  it  seemed  to  her 
their  separation  was  decided. 

Since  she  had  had  time  to  think,  her  fears  were  for 
him,  rather  than  for  herself.  Over  and  over  again,  with 
sickening  persistency  and  acknowledged  weakness,  she 
had  recalled  Hourko's  threatening  remarks  concerning 
him.  "He  is  guilty  of  many  things,"  rang  in  her  ears. 
And  she  had  gone  to  him  as  soon  as  she  dare  trust  her 
self  to  speak,  and  upon  the  basis  of  this  domiciliary  visit, 
had  implored  him  to  use  all  the  caution  possible. 

"Already  you  are  suspected,"  she  had  said. 

"May  be,"  he  had  answered  gloomily. 

"Your  shadow  upon  the  wall  is  watched." 

"Possibly:   I  am  not  afraid." 

"For  that  very  reason  you  will  be  caught;  foolhardi- 
ness  will  be  your  ruin." 

"I  don't  want  my  womenkind  to  predict  my  ruin." 

"Your  womenkind?     You  mean  me,  I  suppose?" 

"Whom  else  should  I  mean?" 

"But  it  is  because  they — it  is  because  I  care.  Oh! 
Kasimir.  in  thinking  of  these  things  you  little  know  how 
I  suffer." 

And  then  the  big,  strong,  prosperous  man.  shook  for 
a  moment.  His  name  upon  her  lips  as  of  old,  and  her 
soft  voice  imploring  him  to  be  cautious  for  her  sake. 
God — if  she  did  but  care!  But  then,  that  beast,  Hourko 
— ah!  she  wanted  to  deceive  him.  It  was  another  of  her 
tricks.  All  the  same,  she  was  in  jeopardy — she  whom  he 
loved — she  might  be  wrenched  from  him — and  yet — per 
haps  she  was  really  safe  enough.  Hourko  would  see  to 
that.  He  had  scarcely  thought  of  it  that  way.  Ah!  hate 
ful  thought :  rather  than  owe  her  liberty  to  Hourko,  bet 
ter  that  she  were  dead — and  yet — dead — it  was  difficult 
— his  heart  was  so  overcharged,  his  brain  so  strained, 
that  without  trusting  himself  to  look  at  her,  and  in  a 
husky  voice,  he  could  only  just  reply— 


154  HERN  AMI  THE  JEW. 

"The  Most  High — blessed  be  He! — has  us  in  His  keep 
ing.  We  are  safe  now  and  always." 

And  he  turned  away,  her  eyes  following  him  wistfully, 
her  heart  bounding  to  be  at  his  side,  her  lips  tremulous 
with  the  words,  "If  he  would  but  be  kind  to  me — if  he 
would  but  be  kind  to  me!" 

Riva  knew  what  was  going  on.  If  she  did  not  actually 
see  or  hear,  she  imagined  so  accurately,  from  her  long 
knowledge  of  those  whom  she  served,  that  her  mistakes 
were  few.  Near  her  mistress  always  when  circumstances 
permitted,  she  had  been  the  only  one  in  the  whole  house 
hold  who  had  heard  her  talking,  while  Hernani  had  led 
the  way,  and  been  occupied  in  his  counting-house.  What 
had  been  said,  she  knew  not,  but.  lurking  about  in  fear 
and  trembling,  she  had  seen  Hourko's  bulky  form  filling 
the  half-open  doorway,  then  disappearing  with  obse 
quious  attention  from  the  dvornik;  and  as  friend  rather 
than  servant  she  had  gone  to  Sara.  Could  she  be  of  use? 
Was  there  anything  she  could  get?  Sara  looked  pale, 
faint — and  no  wonder.  But  seemingly  with  a  great  ef 
fort,  coupled  with  a  brusqueness  altogether  unusual  in 
her  treatment  of  Riva,  or  indeed  of  anyone,  Sara  had 
denied  that  she  was  ailing  or  in  need  of  anything. 

"Get  to  your  bed,  Riva,"  she  had  insisted.  "'It  is  the 
best  thing  you  can  do."  And  Riva,  annoyed  as  a  child 
might  be,  had  gone,  but  with  her  quick  wits  at  work, 
wondering  vaguely.  Since  then,  no  confidences  on 
Sara's  part,  scarcely  an  allusion  to  that  night  of  nights — 
none  as  to  whom  she  had  spoken  with,  spy,  gendarme  or 
what  not — and  matters  in  Riva's  mind  were  working 
furiously.  For  in  addition  came  that  change  marked  by 
Hernani — by  Dorozynski,  for  that  matter,  though  to  him 
it  was  pleasurable  in  a  sense.  Forced  gayety,  unflagging 
energy,  amounting  to  tirelessness,  might  deceive  Doro 
zynski,  whose  knowledge  of  Sara  was  superficial,  but 
the  servant,  the  nurse,  the  friend,  who  with  many  fail 
ings  was  faithful  according  to  her  understanding,  could 


HEKNANI  THE  JEW.  155 

not  be  so  mistaken.  Sara  was  in  a  more  dangerous  mood 
than  she  had  witnessed,  over  all  the  long  years  bridging 
childhood  and  womanhood.  But  cunning  as  Riva  was, 
she  occasionally  shot  wide  of  the  mark;  and  after  casu 
ally  recalling  the  deep  male  voice  mingling  with  her  mis 
tress's  silvery  one,  she  set  the  matter  aside,  considering 
the  man  as  a  police  functionary  in  pursuance  of  his  du 
ties.  Sara  was  unhappy — she  was  sure  of  it — miserably 
so.  More  than  that,  her  relations  with  Hernani  were 
still  the  cause.  How  stupid  it  was!  Why  could  not  they 
have  children  to  link  them  together  like  all  other  rational 
folk?  A  child — -only  one — would  settle  the  matter.  Riva 
was  also  as  sure  of  that  as  that  hens  lay  eggs ;  so  she  set 
to  casting  about,  keeping  her  eyes  open  wider  than  ever, 
her  ears  distended  under  her  lank  black  hair,  so  that 
nothing  escaped  them. 

"Time  sends  it  to  sleep,"  Sara  remarked  to  Deotima 
one  day,  speaking  of  sorrow,  and  having  for  the  moment 
hammered  her  mind  into  thinking  so,  though  her  heart 
bled  as  she  spoke. 

"True  enough ;  but  time  sends  everything  mundane  to 
sleep,  and  the  unfortunate  part  of  it  is  that  we  may  sleep 
our  last  sleep,  before  the  soothing  specific  benumbs  or 
affects  our  minds  as  we  would  wish/'  replied  the  girl, 
whose  soft  fingers  were  at  work  upon  some  rough  warm 
shirts  for  those  who  were  to  take  the  field,  and  as  she  be 
lieved  enthusiastically,  restore  her  country's  greatness. 

"Time  has  played  tricks  with  our  poor  old  father,  so 
far,"  put  in  the  Count;  "with  snowy  hair  he  is  now  en 
countering  his  greatest  grief,  since  the  mother  died." 

"Which  is  the  enforced  absence  of  both  of  you,  I  sup 
pose?" 

"Yes;  Andrew  means  that." 

"Of  course  I  do.  It  makes  me  savage  to  think  of  him 
alone  in  that  great  house." 

"I  can  understand  and  sympathize  with  you.    But  of 


156  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

late  you  have  had  good  news  of  him,  haven't  you?"  Sara 
inquired,  looking  up  into  the  young  fellow's  face. 

"Yes;  the  best  that  could  be  expected.  Too  good  to 
be  true,  I  fancy  sometimes." 

"But  papa  would  never  deceive  us,"  the  girl  insisted. 
"Ah!  I  wish  you  could  see  him.  No  one  could  be  hand 
somer.  He  is  taller  than  Andrew — as  tall  as  your  hus 
band,  in  fact,  and  straight  as  an  arrow,  with  perfect  fea 
tures,  snowy  hair,  and  eyes  like — like — 

"Yours,"  laughed  the  Count. 

"Oh,  mine  are  not  half  so  blue.  He  is  a  dear.  I  only 
wish  I  could  kiss  him." 

"Do  you  remember  how  you  used  to  tease  him  by  kiss 
ing  him  on  the  neck,  eh,  you  rogue?  You  are  no  light 
weight,  and  once  on  his  knee,  he  could  only  laugh, 
though  you  tickled  him  frantically." 

"But  he  liked  it." 

"Did  he?     I'm  not  so  sure." 

"Then,  for  saying  such  horrid  things,  you  shall  re 
ceive  the  same  punishment."  And,  flinging  her  work 
aside,  she  gave  chase  to  her  brother  with  the  abandon 
of  a  child  of  ten.  "How  foolish  we  are,"  she  panted,  after 
a  minute  or  two,  the  Count  laughing  at  her  futile  efforts 
from  the  other  side  of  the  table.  "Oh!  I  am  out  of 
breath." 

"Yes,  you  must  take  care,  sis.  Why  you  are  quite  red 
in  the  face.  Really,  you  are  too  big  for  such  frivolity." 

"Don't  be  rude,  sir." 

"Do  you  remember  when  you  fell  into  the  pea-field 
fish-pond,  and  I  pulled  you  out  with  all  your  pretty 
white  clothes  covered  with  duck-weed?" 

Deotima  blushed  deliciously. 

"Isn't  he  a  tease?"  she  said,  appealing  to  Sara,  who 
was  amused  in  spite  of  herself. 

"Would  you  believe  it,"  pursued  the  Count,  brimful 
of  mischief,  "when  I  roared  with  laughter  at  the  figure 
she  cut,  with  mud,  weed,  and  feathers  sticking  all  over 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  157 

her,  she  drew  herself  up  like  a  Duchess,  and  just  shouted, 
'Don't  be  rude,  sir!'  That  was  all  I  got  for  saving  her 
life." 

"Really,  Andrew,  you  are  too  absurd.  Saving  my  life! 
Why  the  pool  was  only  about  three  feet  deep." 

"That's  all  you  know.  Three  of  water  and  three  of 
mud  would  be  more  like  the  thing." 

"Besides,  ladies  don't  shout." 

"Don't  they,  by  Jupiter.  If  you  didn't  shout,  you 
screamed.  I  thought  you  were  being  murdered." 

"Ok!  you  are  simply  incorrigible.  Come  and  hold 
this  flannel  and  behave  yourself,  if  you  can." 

"I'm  not  quite  sure  that  I  want  to;  but — shall  I  try? 
Very  well.  Those — ah!  yes,  those  were  jolly  times,"  he 
added,  subsiding  into  a  chair,  with  a  cigarette  between 
his  brown  fingers,  and  a  dreamy  far-away  look  in  his 
dark  eyes. 

"Jolly  because  they  are  past?"  suggested  Sara. 

"Well,  I'm  not  quite  clear  about  that.  Wre  were  young 
and  thoughtless,  I  suppose." 

"But  don't  you  think  we  live  too  much  for  yesterday 
and  to-morrow,,  and  too  little  for  to-day?" 

"There's  something  in  that,"  replied  the  Count,  open 
ing  his  eyes  wider  and  becoming  attentive,  as  he  in 
variably  was  when  Sara  spoke. 

"We  are  not  philosophical  when  we  do  so,  are  we?" 

"Perhaps  not.     I  scarcely  think  so." 

"We  don't  do  justice  to  to-day.  What  work  we  have 
on  hand  is  less  thoroughly  done,  and  our  pleasures  are 
less  keenly  entered  into.  We  weaken  our  efforts  by 
thinking  of  the  wrong  things  at  the  wrong  time." 

"But  then  we  are  not  mere  machines,"  observed  Deo- 
tima. 

"That's  exactly  what  wre  are,  little  stupid,"  answered 
the  Count. 

"We  cannot  control  our  thoughts,"  insisted  the  girl. 

"Perhaps  not  wholly,  but  to  some  extent,  and  we  can 


158  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

guide  them;  at  least  I  have  brought  myself  to  think  so," 
said  Sara  deliberately. 

"Oh!  I  agree  with  you;  but  though  a  weakness,  in  a 
vague  sense,  this  groping  in  the  past,"  the  Count  ob 
served  thoughtlessly,  "you  probably  like  to  hark  back  to 
your  own  childhood — to  live  in  it  again  mentally.  Then 
you  hadn't  to  think  for  yourself.  There  was  nothing  to 
trouble  you,  and  you  breathed  and  dreamed  through 
every  hour,  half  unconsciously  perhaps,  but  yet  delight 
edly,  feeling  it  to  be  so  very  good.  Was  it  not  so?" 

The  allusion  wras  too  much  for  Sara.  A  film  hid  her 
sewing.  She  could  scarcely  see,  and  to  hide  her  feelings 
got  up  and  rummaged  in  the  deep  well  of  an  inlaid  work- 
table.  Her  childhood!  Rough  words,  friendlessness, 
and  her  playing-ground  the  damp  or  sun-scorched  pave 
ments,  or  places  where  mud  and  filth  lay  thick;  her 
greatest  delight  a  flower  that  struggled  in  a  pot.  Later, 
the  anxious,  anaemic,  storm-worn  face  of  her  hollow- 
chested  father,  playing  his  own  part,  and  that  of  the 
faithful  wife  and  mother,  who  had  fallen  asleep  in  a  city 
whither  the  Russian  Government  would  permit  no  re 
turn,  having  driven  them  from  her  grave  with  whips. 
Later  again,  the  torn  and  shabby  books  the  worn-out 
father  could  get  by  hook  or  crook,  seeing  his  daughter 
cared  for  such  things,  and  longing  to  teach  her  all  he 
could,  before  he  too  was  hustled  gravewards.  She  could 
see  it  all,  plainly  as  ever.  But  what  a  heart!  How  brave 
he  had  been,  bidding  her  hope — always — with  the  tears 
in  his  eyes  and  the  phlegm  in  his  throat.  With  blue, 
bloodless  lips,  choking  through  asthma  at  night,  and 
weak  and  faint  in  the  day,  yet  gentle  as  a  woman — his 
first  lesson,  his  last  one — teaching  her  to  be  honest  and 
virtuous.  Her  childhood!  She  had  never  been  a  child. 

Sufficiently  mistress  of  herself,  the  apparent  thing  she 
sought  for  found,  she  turned  from  the  work-table.  What 
a  contrast  to  her  thoughts — this  room  with  its  luxury, 
these  two  young  people  of  noble  birth,  her  guests,  her- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  1 59 

self  beloved,  or  rather  coveted  passionately  by  the  great 
man  of  the  country — the  Governor-General;  she,  the 
wife  of  the  richest  banker  in  all  Warsaw;  in  addition, 
threatened  with  divorce  because  barren;  finally,  in  the 
power  of  the  police  if  it  pleased  her  admirer  and  perse 
cutor. 

With  her  mind  harping  upon  these  things,  knowing 
them  all,  was  it  not  wonderful  that  it  kept  its  balance, 
and  was  it  not  still  more  wonderful  that  she  should  feel 
strong?  Like  the  great  Catherine,  self-made  Empress  of 
all  the  Russias,  of  whom  she  had  read,  did  she  indeed 
strengthen  when  sore  beset. 

Turning  to  Count  Dorozynski,  she  said  sweetly — 

"No,  I  think  I  was  not  clever  then — in  my  childhood. 
I  cried  too  much.  I  might  have  saved  my  eyes.  It  was 
foolish.  But  then  we  are  all  foolish — always.  As  chil 
dren,  only  in  the  lesser  degree.  My  prayer  still  is  that 
I  may  be  given  faith  and  wisdom.  It  is  terrible  to  have 
only  such  a  little  life,  and  to  find  all  the  time,  on  looking 
back,  that  it  has  been  lived  so  stupidly." 

"Oh!  but  you  take  things  too  seriously,"  exclaimed 
Deotima. 

"Do  I?  Perhaps,  if  one  were  a  little  wiser,  one  would 
be  enabled  to  live  so  that  to  scrutinize  the  past  would 
give  one  fewer  shocks.  But  let  us  talk  of  something 
more  cheerful." 

"There,  that's  your  fault,  Andrew,  you  stupid  old 
thing!  Why  do  you  stir  up  unpleasant  recollections?" 
remarked  the  girl. 

But  the  Count,  like  a  man,  did  not  take  the  broad  hint, 
though  quick  enough  to  detect  the  ring  of  sadness  in 
Sara's  voice,  and  fascinated  by  it,  as  he  had  been  before. 

What  possible  trouble  could  she  have,  other  than  the 
common  one  of  oppression?  he  asked  himself.  She  had 
married  for  love,  and  had  got  riches  as  well.  She  was 
clever,  healthy,  and  beautiful.  What  more  could  she 
want?  She  was  to  be  envied.  More  than  that,  he  had 


160  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

got  so  far  as  to  think  that  there  would  be  no  hardship 
in  having  to  fill  the  shoes  of  the  man  who  possessed  her. 
It  was  scarcely  possible  to  be  with  her  constantly  and 
to  look  at  her  for  long  without  these  thoughts  arising. 
He  would  have  wagered  that  ninety-nine  men  out  of 
every  hundred  would  have  echoed  his  sentiments.  With 
out  heeding  Deotima's  thrust  at  him,  he  observed  to 
Sara — 

"So  you  dislike  to  review  the  past?  Surely,  consider 
ing  all  things,  you  have  been  fortunate,  just  as  you  seem 
to  be  now?" 

"Appearances  are  sometimes  deceptive,"  replied  Sara, 
unconsciously  using  the  very  words  which  Hernani  had 
addressed  to  Bloch,  before  telling  him  of  the  strained 
condition  of  his  home  ties. 

"It  strikes  me  that  we  are  either  very  frivolous  or 
ridiculously  solemn,"  interposed  the  young  girl,  bent  on 
supporting  Sara  and  stopping  her  brother's  mouth. 

Quick  to  avail  herself  of  the  alliance,  Sara  replied— 

"Yes;  and  if  we  would  do  great  things,  we  must  not 
be  guilty  of  little  ones.  What  precious  moments  we  have 
been  wasting."  And  she  set  to  work  with  renewed  ar 
dor. 

As  for  the  Count,  he  contented  himself  with  gazing 
admiringly  at  this  young  wife,  who,  with  nimble  fingers, 
was  embroidering  the  white  eagle  in  silk,  upon  a  material 
of  the  same  substance.  Where  would  it  float,  and  under 
what  conditions?  Mentally  he  drew  a  picture  of  the 
thick  woods  which  were  a  feature  of  the  country.  Amidst 
the  tall  stems  of  the  pines,  but  thinly  mingled  with  de 
ciduous  trees,  the  Russian  infantry  were  retiring  in  con 
fusion,  amounting  almost  to  a  rout.  The  vivid  flashes, 
the  rattling  detonations,  and  the  puffs  of  blue  smoke,  in 
dicating  where  they  faced  about,  paused  and  fired,  then 
scurried  off  again  in  full  retreat.  The  triumphant  shouts 
of  his  countrymen  rang  plainly  in  his  ears.  Victory  was 
with  the  white  eagle.  Bullet-riddled  and  smoke-be- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  l6l 

grimed  it  would  flutter  proudly  in  the  wind.  That  would 
be  the  termination  of  the  contest;  the  Moskals  would 
be  thrashed  all  along  the  line.  It  was  a  foregone  con 
clusion.  So  real  did  it  seem  to  him,  and  so  strongly  were 
his  sympathies  enlisted  in  support  of  the  imaginary  idea, 
that  he  found  his  pulses  beating  wildly,  his  breath  com 
ing  short  and  thick,  as  though,  already  in  the  forefront  of 
the  battle,  he  inspired  and  piloted  his  men.  Mastering 
his  emotion,  he  approached  Sara,  and  gathering  some 
folds  of  the  banner  in  his  hand,  remarked — 

"Yes,  you  are  right  to  be  busy;  and  I  have  a  fancy 
that  in  every  Polish  home  it  will  be  the  same.  I  should 
condemn  myself  as  a  worthless  fellow  for  standing  and 
watching  you,  but  that  for  the  moment  my  share  is  done. 
To-night  again  I  shall  be  full  of  work.  Ah!  I  tell  you,  it 
is  interesting.  Nikolay  Brauman  has  at  last  lent  us  his 
cellars.  They  are  huge,  and  amidst  the  flickering  of  both 
gas  and  torchlight,  the  drilling  and  instructing  of  squads 
of  fine  fellows  goes  on.  I  wish  I  could  paint.  What  a 
subject!  Imagine  whitewashed  walls,  supporting  low 
cracked  ceilings,  on  all  sides,  plenty  of  evidence  of  the 
presence  of  wine,  in  cask  and  bottle.  Then,  some  dozen 
pairs  of  broad  shoulders,  supporting  the  anxious,  deter 
mined  faces  of  men,  who  feel  themselves  on  the  eve  of 
delivering  their  country  from  the  hand  of  the  spoiler. 
But  that  is  the  serious  side  of  the  picture.  Overhead 
there  is  something  amusing  to  be  seen.  There,  with  su 
perb  indifference,  the  police  are  tramping  about  with  the 
regularity  of  machines.  We  can  almost  hear  them. 
It  is  a  splendid  joke." 

Both  women  paused  in  their  self-imposed  tasks.  The 
Count  had  a  way  of  riveting  attention  when  he  spoke. 
His  voice  was  a  musical  one,  and  when  he  became  really 
interested  in  his  subject,  the  charm  of  his  manner  was 
not  only  apparent,  but  irresistible.  The  expression  on 
the  attentive  faces  of  both  his  listeners  was  one  of  un 
disguised  alarm.  They  were  aware,  to  some  extent,  that 
11 


1 62  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

such  things  were  happening,  but  to  be  told  outright  was 
painful  to  a  degree. 

"What  if  you  were  caught,  Andrew?"  exclaimed  Deo- 
tima. 

The  Count  shrugged  his  shoulders  significantly. 

"Well,  it  would  be  rather  a  bad  business,  sis." 

"You  would  be  shot." 

"Lucky  at  that." 

"Oh!  think  of  papa.  If  anything  happened  to  you,  it 
would  kill  him." 

Sara  had  listened  in  silence,  quaking  and  white  to  the 
lips,  in  the  presence  of  this  forcible  reminder  of  the  im 
minent  perils  which  beset  Hernani.  For  herself,  per 
haps,  there  were  some  loopholes.  If  driven  to  desperate 
straits  she  would  have  to  rely  upon  her  wits,  and  stand 
or  fall  upon  her  manner  of  handling  Hourko,  but  if 
caught  red-handed,  as  it  appeared  he  might  easily  be, 
how  could  she  hope  to  save  him? 

The  Count  had  watched  Sara  change  color,  and  regret 
ting  the  thoughtlessness  of  his  remarks,  he  hastened  to 
reassure  her. 

"The  risk  we  run  is  really  very  slight.  It  would  take  a 
big  body  of  police  to  do  us  any  harm ;  besides,  we  are  on 
our  guard  and  are  much  too  artful  to  be  caught.  You 
may  make  your  mind  easy,  sis — we  shall  have  good  news 
to  send  home,  not  bad." 

Hernani  entering  the  room  with  Hermann  Bloch,  the 
Count  fancied  that  something  had  pleased  him,  and  said 
as  much. 

"What  is  it,  man?"  he  inquired,  drawing  him  aside. 
"Come — let  me  into  the  secret." 

"Only  that  Bloch  here  has  brought  news  of  the  safe 
arrival  of  a  quantity  of  arms  and  ammunition,  long  since 
considered  lost."  And  the  two  men  began  talking  con 
fidentially,  while  the  little  fat  notary,  clad  in  his  shiny 
frock  coat,  perspired  and  fidgeted  in  his  efforts  to  be  civil 
to  the  two  women,  with  whom  it  appeared  he  made  poor 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  163 

headway.  Sara  had  grown  to  dislike  the  sight  of  his 
white  bristly  hair,  and  keen  little  pig's  eyes  half  buried  in 
rolls  of  red  fat,  and  wondered  how  his  wife,  who  was 
rather  pretty,  could  have  been  induced  to  marry  such  a 
man.  It  had  become  almost  unbearable  to  her  to  have 
him  about  the  house,  ever  since  Hernani  had  made  the 
mistake  of  talking  to  him  about  her.  Sheer  nervousness 
induced  her  to  credit  him  with  knowing  a  great  deal 
more  than  he  did;  little  gossip  that  he  was,  frequenting 
the  cafes  on  his  own  admission,  and  always  to  be  seen  at 
street  corners,  talking  with  odd-looking  acquaintances. 
In  her  distrust  of  him,  she  decided  that  the  very  atmos 
phere  of  sharp  dealing  clung  to  his  clothes,  while  his 
manner  was  like  that  of  a  detective.  When  bad  fortune 
befell  her,  it  would  come  from  such  a  quarter,  and  here 
he  was  haunting  the  place. 

Quite  unconscious  of  the  sentiments  he  unluckily  cre 
ated,  after  a  few  minutes  spent  in  struggling  against  the 
tide  of  disapproval,  Bloch  respectfully  took  his  leave, 
and  Sara,  breathing  more  freely,  was  at  liberty  to  direct 
furtive  glances  at  Hernani's  face,  and  read  there  all  that 
it  betrayed  to  her.  Some  time  had  elapsed  since  she  had 
had  a  good  look  at  him,  and  it  at  once  struck  her  that 
he  was  thinner,  besides  being  more  excitable  and  rest 
less  in  manner,  as  one  working  at  high  pressure.  Other 
wise,  his  finely-moulded  features,  set  off  by  the  bronzed, 
healthy  complexion  she  had  at  first  admired,  were  just 
the  same,  showing  no  signs  of  the  attacks  time  was  mak 
ing  upon  him.  The  poise  of  his  head  and  the  spread  of 
his  shoulders  were  unaltered;  he  was  as  erect  and  state 
ly  as  on  the  day  when  he  had  entered  the  house  where 
he  had  found  her  in  Cracow.  No  gray  hairs  seamed  the 
long  curling  moustache,  and  his  splendid  brown  eyes — 
not  the  least  opaque,  as  common,  and  to  be  distrusted — 
were  as  clear,  fearless,  and  full  of  expression,  as  when 
they  at  first  made  her  pulses  dance  in  the  old  time  long 
past.  Watching  him,  thinking  of  the  load  of  responsibil- 


1 64  HERN  AN  I  THE  JEW. 

ity  those  broad  shoulders  carried,  of  the  many  anxious 
and  intricate  thoughts  passing  beneath  the  smooth  skin 
of  that  spacious  forehead,  she  felt  thankful  beyond  the 
power  of  her  tongue  to  tell,  that  she  had  borne  the  weight 
of  her  troubles,  and  not  gone  crying  to  him  in  the  first 
flush  of  her  fears  for  her  own  safety.  Had  she  ever  dis 
covered  that  Riva  was  right,  and  that  his  head  was  full 
of  another  woman,  her  attitude  would  no  doubt  have 
been  that  of  the  enraged  tigress,  rather  than  of  the  pa 
tient,  burden-bearing  ship  of  the  desert.  As  it  was,  she 
was  charitable  and  gentle,  and  every  petty  detail  of  her 
home  life  was  dwelt  upon  and  attended  to,  with  scrupu 
lous  care  and  unspeakable  affection.  Soon  it  would  no 
longer  be  her  lot  to  have  these  duties  to  perform,  for  if 
the  projected  revolt  became  a  Russian  defeat,  her  dis 
missal  would  come  the  quicker;  that  would  be  certain, 
for  Hernani,  with  time  on  his  hands,  would  again  be 
Hernani,  full  of  the  failure  she  had  been  to  him.  Yes, 
she  was  aware  of  it — he  would  sweep  her  aside,  as  the 
wind  hurls  the  autumn  leaves.  The  Russians  triumphant 
— as  she  could  never  help  fearing  they  would  be — meant 
that  they  would  be  fugitives  upon  the  face  of  the  earth — 
their  vast  wealth  confiscated— a  price  upon  their  heads 
— or  worse — Hernani  in  a  fortress,  en  route  for  Siberia 
or  Kamtchatka,  she  in  the  power  and  at  the  mercy  of  his 
Excellency  the  Governor. 

So  daily  and  hourly  she  seemed  to  take  leave  of  her 
luxurious  home,  every  corner  of  which  was  so  indescrib 
ably  dear  to  her.  To  look  at  a  picture,  or  with  careful 
fingers  to  dust  a  piece  of  china,  was  to  examine  and  touch 
a  dumb  friend,  for  her  woman's  heart  was  full  of  affec 
tion  for  these  trifles,  which  to  a  masculine  mind  under 
similar  conditions  would  scarcely  have  appealed.  Thus, 
the  magnitude  of  the  issues  at  stake,  did  not  prevent  her 
from  considering  the  minutiae  surrounding  her,  though 
she  found  plenty  of  time  to  think  of  the  weightier  mat 
ters,  with  a  lucidity  and  grasp  which  left  little  to  carp  at. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  165 

The  Governor's  silence  and  inaction,  so  far  as  she  was 
concerned,  was  a  mystery  to  her.  What  was  he  doing? 
What  was  he  thinking  of? — cooped  up  with  that  subtle- 
looking  villain,  as  she  thought  of  him — Titus  Popoloff. 
Perhaps  he  was  too  full  of  the  political  game  he  was 
playing  to  think  about  her.  No  doubt  her  turn  for  per 
secution  would  come  during  a  lull,  or  at  least,  fast 
enough.  Meantime  she  could  only  say  to  herself  over  the 
samovar,  where  it  was  so  necessary  to  appear  cheerful 
and  act  well,  "If  they  only  knew  what  I  endure — Kasimir 
and  these  other  people."  And,  with  a  sense  of  satisfac 
tion  that  she  could  be  so  brave  and  bear  so  much,  she 
would  hand  and  sip  the  yellow  tea  that  soothed  and  re 
freshed  her. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  she  derived  an  immense 
amount  of  consolation  from  Deotima's  society,  though 
ignorant  of  the  extent  of  the  interest  she  already  took  in 
the  young  girl.  Attracted  towards  each  other  by  the 
common  misfortune  of  oppression,  the  desire  for  free 
dom  was  at  once  an  indissoluble  bond  between  them, 
which  was  further  cemented  by  Deotima's  unvarying 
amiability.  And  then,  the  two  men,  Hernani  and  the 
Count,  not  only  shared  the  same  interests,  but  agreed  so 
well  over  them,  which  was  another  tie. 

So  shut  up  in  that  luxurious  house,  where  it  seemed 
best  for  them  to  remain  almost  close  prisoners,  they 
worked  and  talked,  casting  anxious  eyes  into  the  im 
penetrable  future. 

At  the  end  of  a  day  in  which  Sara  had  been  more  than 
usually  busy  with  household  matters,  in  addition  to  hav 
ing  received  a  number  of  visits  from  so-called  friends, 
the  two  women  were  once  more  together,  having  seen 
next  to  nothing  of  each  other  for  hours. 

"Did  any  of  your  friends  see  me?"  inquired  the  girl. 
"I  was  afraid  they  would,  and  rushed  out  of  the  way  in  a 
tremendous  hurry." 

"I  don't  think  so.     I  should  have  been  questioned  had 


l66  HERNANT  THE  JEW. 

yon  been  noticed.  You  see  you  are  not  easy  to  hide," 
Sara  replied,  surveying  Deotima's  large  and  ripening 
figure  with  the  admiration  women  often  bestow  upon 
each  other. 

"That  is  what  Andrew  means,  I  suppose,  when  he 
calls  me  a  great  gawky  girl.  I  would  much  rather  be 
your  height,  and  have  your  ruddy-brown  hair,  than  be 
as  I  am,  so  fair,  all  pink  and  white,  like  a  china  doll.  But 
I  did  not  make  myself,  that's  one  consolation." 

"My  dear  child,  you  are  all  that  could  be  wished  for. 
Any  man  would  be  proud  of  you." 

"I  don't  think  any  man  will  ever  get  me." 

"Why?" 

"Oh!  just  because ' 

Sara  laughed  at  the  naive  simplicity  of  this  deliciously 
fresh  plump  maiden.  Then  pointing  some  silk  with  her 
teeth,  to  thread  it,  she  returned  to  the  charge. 

"But  tell  me,"  she  entreated  persuasively. 

Deotima  became  grave,  the  blood  mounted  to  her 
cheeks  and  her  eyes  flashed. 

"This  is  no  time  for  marrying  or  thinking  of  marriage. 
As  her  daughter,  Poland  claims  me." 

A  little  shiver  passed  down  Sara's  back.  The  brave 
words,  so  full  of  meaning,  thrilled  through  her. 

"But  have  you  made  up  your  mind  not  to  marry?"  she 
asked  gently,  repressing  her  feelings. 

"No." 

"And  you  don't  care  for  anybody?" 

"Not  as  I  should.  Why,  I  have  been  shut  up;  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  brother-officers  of  Andrew's,  I 
have  never  met  anyone.  You  see,  we  have  been  too  poor 
to  entertain,  thanks  to  the  way  in  which  we  have  been 
deprived  of  our  land.  And  mother's  death  had  a  great 
effect  upon  papa,  who  was  heart-broken  and  would  see 
no  one.  But  if  I  ever  marry,  it  will  be  for  love,  and  if  I 
love,  I  shall  trust  implicitly.  I  can  do  nothing  by 
halves." 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  167 

"It  is  the  only  way,"  answered  Sara,  surprised  and 
interested  in  the  same  breath.  Deotima  was  over-young 
to  speak  so  shrewdly.  Had  she  always  trusted  Hernani? 
she  instantly  asked  herself,  the  penciled  eyebrows  tight 
ening  into  a  painful  frown,  as  without  stopping  to  in 
vestigate,  to  accuse  herself  of  her  one  piece  of  deception 
which  had  been  so  well  meant,  she  told  herself  that  she 
was  not  to  blame,  since,  if  only  she  had  been  fruitful,  all 
would  have  been  well  with  her.  Her  failure  was  through 
no  fault  of  her  own,  and  with  another  brave  effort  to 
ignore  this  constantly-recurring  misery  of  her  life,  and 
the  consequences  which  were  yet  to  come  of  it,  she 
thought  to  give  advice.  "Yes,"  she  said;  "if  you  marry, 
you  must  trust — place  your  honor  in  your  husband's 
keeping  and  let  it  rest  there;  but,  let  him  know  and  feel 
it  to  be  so.  You  don't  mind  me  saying  what  I  think,  do 
you?" 

"Go  on/'  said  Deotima. 

"You  are  sure  we  understand  each  other?" 

"Certain." 

"Well,  I  have  heard  it  said  that  we  all  begin  by  be 
lieving  implicitly,  by  trusting  absolutely,  but  that  too 
often  our  eyes  are  roughly  opened.  The  man  proves 
worthless.  But  jealousy  and  suspicion,  the  tendency  to 
expect  too  much,  to  give  too  little,  may  make  one  think 
this.  Let  a  woman  first  satisfy  herself  as  to  his  worth- 
lessness,  and  be  sure  that  it  is  none  of  her  doing.  Is  he 
so,  then  she  had  best  fly  from  him.  At  least  her  happi 
ness  with  him  is  over.  But  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  she 
is  not  sure,  she  is  a  little  put  out,  dissatisfied,  jealous,  al 
ways  too  ready  to  doubt.  Then  the  weak  moment  comes 
when  she  flings  her  doubt  in  the  man's  face,  with  this  re 
sult:  if  he  be  by  nature  bad,  she  feeds  his  vice;  if  really 
good,  she  has  done  her  best  to  make  him  bad — to  turn 
the  materials  given  her  to  the  worst  account.  All  women 
understand  how  to  secure  the  man  they  covet,  few,  that 


l68  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

having  got  him,  the  struggle  has  but  commenced.  But 
perhaps  this  does  not  interest  you?" 

"Yes,  it  does — go  on." 

Sara  stitched  away  silently  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then 
observed — 

"If  you  distrust  an  honest  servant  you  may  make  a 
thief.  To  be  no  longer  believed  in,  no  longer  trusted, 
means  that  the  grossest  insult  has  been  tendered.  Let 
a  woman  trust,  I  say,  and  cling  to  that  trust  as  to  her 
very  life.  You  may  mend  broken  china,  but  the  cracks 
remain.  Whatever  women  say  to  the  contrary,  and  I 
have  heard  some  strange  things  said,  men  possess  that 
delicate  commingling  of  many  qualities,  termed  honor. 
Place  a  man  on  his  honor,  and  much  more  often  than 
not,  he  will  proudly  maintain  the  right,  inherited  from 
his  birth,  to  be  called  an  honorable  man.  Trust  is  the 
only  card  a  woman  holds  worth  playing.  When  her  in 
terest  and  happiness  have  been  irrevocably  staked,  let 
her  always  say  to  the  man,  'See,  I  trust  you.' ' 

Stirred  by  her  subject,  conscious  throughout  of  her 
own  unhappiness,  the  convincing  tones  of  her  voice,  so 
round  and  soft,  rose  and  fell,  and  at  length  ceased,  and 
Deotima,  who  had  never  before  beheld  her  so  animated, 
could  not  take  her  eyes  off  her  face.  The  extreme  beauty 
of  her  complexion  was  heightened  by  a  deeper  flush,  her 
wide  expressive  lips,  ruddy  and  parted,  revealed  teeth 
even  and  fair  as  pearls,  while  in  the  bright  shaft  of  light 
cast  by  the  shaded  lamp,  the  fine  curves  of  her  figure, 
the  warm  hue  of  her  hair  and  eyebrows,  shielding  those 
eyes  which  Hernani  loved  so  well,  were  seen  in  all  their 
rare  perfection.  Dazzled  by  her  beauty,  Deotima  could 
only  repeat  Riva's  sentiments  and  exclaim — 

"If  I  were  a  man,  how  I  should  love  you — my  good 
ness,  how  I  should  love  you!" 

Sara  blushed  like  a  child,  and  without  a  word,  worked, 
stitched  as  though  her  life  depended  upon  the  quickness 
of  her  needle,  for  she  was  completely  disconcerted  by 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  169 

the  girl's  blunt  expression  of  her  admiration.  After  a 
while  she  broke  the  silence  which  had  fallen  upon  them. 

"And  since  we  are  both  women  and  I  am  a  weak  one?" 
she  inquired  timidly. 

"I  shall  love  you  less  selfishly.  But  then" — and  she 
pouted  deliciously — "you  will  not  care — I  mean,  every 
one  loves  you." 

"One  can  never  have  too  much  love,  never  have 
enough,"  said  Sara. 

"But  you  are  so  rich." 

"What  difference  does  that  make?" 

"You  have  so  many  distractions." 

"Of  what  kind?     You  know  my  life." 

"Oh!  but  just  now  no  one  is  gay.  Such  gloom  as 
this  will  not  last;  people  will  entertain  again,  the  theaters 
will  re-open,  mourning  will  be  cast  aside.  The  women 
in  black,  will  be  an  historical  feature  of  the  past,  and  all 
will  be  bright  and  gay,  thoughtless  and  happy.  As  for 
me,  I  am  sure  to  be  buried  in  the  country  with  Andrew, 
so  you  will  forget  me,  and,  like  the  butterfly  emerging 
from  the  chrysalis,  you  will  leave  this  house — 

"A  beggar!"  cried  Sara  wildly. 

Deotima  paused  in  astonishment,  but  only  for  a  sec 
ond,  Sara  having  quickly  recovered  herself. 

"My  word — a  beggar!"  she  repeated.  "Wherever  did 
you  get  such  an  idea?  I  should  not  mind  sharing  your 
poverty  and  grief." 

"Do  you  think  I  am  happy?"  inquired  Sara. 

"Of  course  I  do,"  said  Deotima. 

"Then  I  ought  to  have  been  an  actress,"  answered 
Sara,  with  a  little  smothered  laugh;  "how  well  I  must 
play.  Seriously  though,"  she  added,  laying  her  hand 
upon  the  young  girl's  knee  and  looking  up  into  her  face, 
"should  I  ever  come  to  you,  homeless,  with  no  money 
and  no  friends,  weary,  and  with  only  the  clothes  I  stand 
up  in,  will  you — will  you  be  kind  to  me?" 

"As  long  as  I  breathe,"  replied  the  girl  impulsively. 


I7O  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Very  well,  I  warn  you.  I  may  put  you  to  the  test. 
Now  let  us  change  the  subject." 

"I  have  not  annoyed  you?" 

"How  could  you?  What  have  you  done?  Hush! 
that  was  the  door — someone  is  coming;  your  brother  or 
my  husband." 

But  no  one  came.  Sara's  ears  had  deceived  her,  and 
for  a  long  while  they  were  silent,  both  of  them  full  of  their 
own  thoughts. 

Annoyed  at  having  so  nearly  betrayed  her  feelings  to 
Deotima,  Sara  again  began  to  criticise  her  conduct  to 
wards  Hernani.  She  had  plenty  of  advice  to  offer  to 
others,  and  yet  had  somehow  made  a  mull  of  her  own 
affairs.  Why  had  she  not  pocketed  her  pride  and  sought 
an  explanation,  even  after  the  conversation  she  had  over 
heard?  Ah!  if  only  she  had  not  heard  him  say  what  he 
had.  She  would  have  credited  no  reports.  But  her  own 
ears!  It  was  too  much.  And  what  would  have  been  the 
use?  She  would  have  knelt  at  his  feet  and  he  would  have 
said,  "Get  up;  you  know  my  feelings.  I  am  disappoint 
ed,  and  I  have  said  so,  often."  She  would  have  hastened 
her  own  downfall  perhaps.  Anyhow,  it  was  too  late. 

And  just  then  Deotima  alluded  to  an  oft  talked-of 
project — that  of  visiting  home.  Much  as  she  loved  her 
brother,  she  would  like  to  return,  if  only  for  a  few  hours. 
Her  father  was  old  and  lonely,  and  it  would  be  so  sweet 
to  get  a  peep  at  him,  and  the  old  place  so  full  of  mem 
ories.  But  Andrew  opposed  the  step,  and  her  father 
appeared  to  be  in  league  with  him.  So  far  as  she  was 
concerned  there  could  be  no  danger,  and  no  one  need  be 
the  wiser,  since  she  could  easily  go  and  return  without 
being  observed.  The  distance  was  not  great,  and  for  the 
time  of  year  the  roads  were  good;  besides,  she  knew 
every  inch  of  the  way.  It  was  all  very  fine  to  say  that 
she  was  of  most  use  where  she  was.  She  could  not  see  it. 
And  what  difference  could  a  few  hours  make,  either  one 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  171 

way  or  the  other?  Andrew  was  not  a  baby,  and  could 
sew  his  own  buttons  on,  if  it  came  to  that. 

"Oh,  you  will  go  one  of  these  days,"  Sara  remarked 
soothingly;  "meantime,  you  are  safer  here."  And  with 
a  few  more  opinions  on  Deotima's  side  the  conversation 
dropped. 

Sara  went  out  one  afternoon,  accompanied  by  Riva. 
She  was  obliged  to  go,  but  while  the  old  servant  babbled 
of  her  own  views  and  feelings  and  dropped  her  choice 
bits  of  wisdom,  Sara  was  intensely  nervous.  Every  sol 
dier  or  gendarme  she  saw — and  the  streets  were  full  of 
them — had  been  instructed  to  arrest  her.  This  was  to 
be  the  outcome  of  General  Hourko's  long  silence.  She 
did  not  like  that  silence.  It  boded  her  no  good.  He  was 
only  maturing  his  plans  for  seizing  her,  and  the  delay 
must  have  been  a  necessary  one.  Then,  ashamed  of  her 
own  weakness,  she  held  her  head  up,  looked  into  the  cafes 
as  she  passed  them,  and  thought,  comically,  of  what  an 
immense  amount  of  liquor,  caviare,  salted  fish,  and  other 
dainties,  the  great  hulking  fellows  that  filled  them  must 
consume.  Her  fears  returning,  she  struggled  with  them, 
and  again  thought  how  absurd  it  was  of  her  to  imagine 
that  she  really  occupied  a  moment  of  Ivan  Nicholae- 
vitch's  day.  Such  a  great  man,  with  so  many  compli 
cated  affairs  to  attend  to,  could  have  no  time  to  spare  to 
worry  his  head  about  her.  He  might  even  have  forgot 
ten  about  her  altogether.  But  then,  what  would  become 
of  that  stupid  document  which  might  injure  her  so  much? 
She  was  in  terror  whenever  she  thought  of  that  awful 
night,  and  that  great  strong  man  towering  over  her  so 
threateningly.  Would  he  do  all  he  had  promised,  and  let 
no  one  see  the  paper?  Her  liberty  was  so  insecure.  Oh! 
if  he  would  only  forget  her  and  burn  the  hateful  thing. 
How  often  had  such  thoughts  racked  her  brain. 

When  she  arrived  home,  Riva  tripping  at  her  side, 
with  a  cloak  over  her  shoulders  and  a  basket  on  her  arm, 


172  HERNANI  THE  JEW 

she  found  Hernani  excitedly  declaring  that  Hourko  had 
been  shot — shot  as  he  was  driving  along. 

"Do  you  hear?"  he  added,  addressing  her,  his  manner 
almost  aggressive,  his  eyes,  as  it  were,  searching  to  find 
some  fault. 

"Well,  I  am  sorry,"  she  answered  simply,  without 
thought  of  what  such  news  might  mean  to  her. 

"Bravo!     I  suppose  you  are." 

"Who  would  not  be?  Murder  in  the  public  streets!  It 
is  too  terrible." 

Hernani  was  baffled. 

"You  are  right  there/'  he  agreed.  "How  these  women 
can  act!"  he  thought.  "Is  it  likely  that  she  would  ever 
have  admitted  anything,  had  I  asked  her!" 

Then  he  began  to  grapple  with  the  news,  while  Sara 
wondered  at  the  strangeness  of  the  reception  he  had  given 
her,  and  set  it  down  to  excitement  or  some  such  cause. 

"Mind  you,  it  will  do  us  no  good,"  he  remarked  to 
Dorozynski. 

"The  man  who  did  it  must  be  mad,"  asserted  the 
Count. 

"Well;  but  it  is  all  the  same.  Fresh  troops  will  be 
poured  in.  There  will  be  all  sorts  of  rigorous  measures 
enforced." 

"Stop  a  bit  though;  there  is  this  chance — the  rumor 
may  be  a  false  one,"  suggested  the  Count. 

"True;  though  my  information  should  be  good.  It 
occurred  near  the  Hotel  de  1'Europe,  I  am  told.  I  must 
have  been  within  a  few  hundred  yards  at  the  moment." 

However,  before  nightfall  it  transpired  that  Hourko 
had  only  been  wounded,  and  that,  it  was  said,  but 
slightly. 

The  next  occurrence  worthy  of  note  came  in  the  shape 
of  sad  and  startling  news  for  Deotima  and  Count  An 
drew.  A  trusted  messenger  arrived  at  night,  fatigued 
and  covered  with  dust,  to  announce  that  Count  Doro 
zynski  had  died  in  his  sleep.  Worn  out  with  disappoint- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  173 

ment  and  ill-usage,  he  had  at  length  succumbed.  There 
could  be  no  doubt  that  the  attack  made  upon  his  home, 
was  the  immediate  cause  of  his  end.  The  shock  of  being 
so  rudely  separated  from  his  children,  added  to  his  con 
stant  fears  for  their  safety,  had  been  insupportable  to 
him.  He  had  been  unable  to  sleep  or  take  proper  nour 
ishment  latterly,  and  more  than  once,  in  a  kind  of  stupor, 
had  been  discovered  muttering  their  names,  which  had 
finally  been  his  last  words. 

Cbunt  Andrew  was  on  no  account  to  return  to  the 
house,  as  such  an  act  would  be  one  of  extreme  rashness 
in  the  opinion  of  his  advisers.  It  was  thought  possible, 
that  with  caution,  his  sister  might  attend  the  funeral,  but 
/f  she  could  be  restrained  from  doing  so,  so  much  the 
better,  as  the  authorities  were  known  to  be  deeply  in 
censed  at  what  they  were  pleased  to  consider  as  the  out 
rages  committed  by  Count  Andrew.  Deotima  received 
the  news  speechless  with  horror  and  grief.  She  spoke 
little  and  few  tears  flowed;  these  were  the  worst  signs. 
When  the  Count  entreated  her  not  to  go,  with  quivering 
lips  and  all  the  affectionate  influence  he  could  exert,  she 
replied  by  informing  him  that  she  was  ready  for  the  jour 
ney,  and  only  awaited  the  necessary  arrangements  for  it, 
which  must  be  made  at  once. 

On  her  return,  when  they  were  alone,  her  first  act  was 
to  solemnly  swear  to  dedicate  her  life  to  the  destruction 
of  those  foes  who  had  wantonly,  and  in  cold  blood,  de 
stroyed  her  father,  and  by  way  of  answer,  the  steadfast 
exchange  of  glances,  the  quivering  of  lips,  and  the  silent 
clasping  of  hands,  was  all  that  followed  between  them, 
but  from  that  hour  certainly,  the  Russian  Government 
might  have  added  two  more  names  to  its  long  list  ofr 
irreconcilable  enemies. 

After  that  the  Marquis  Wielopolski  was  twice  shot  at. 
Then  there  was  a  little  lull. 


174  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  General's  wound  was  healing  well.  The  doctors 
had  gravely  prescribed  rest,  and  had  been  pooh-poohed 
for  their  pains.  Relying  upon  his  stout  constitution. 
Hourko  had  politely  sent  them  to  the  devil,  and  himself 
to  work,  with  a  grim  will.  Confined  to  the  palace,  his 
temper  was  said  to  be  diabolical,  and  in  truth  a  milder 
word  w7ould  not  have  described  it.  He  kept  Titus  Popo- 
loff  trotting  about  on  his  heels  all  day  long.  "Led  every 
one  of  them  a  devil  of  a  dance" — so  said  his  perfumed 
and  gorgeously-clad  aides-de-camp — Petersburg  dandies 
of  the  first  water. 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  now?"  was  the  reception  the 
great  man  accorded  his  apparently  indefatigable  facto-, 
turn,  Popoloff,  upon  one  occasion,  on  his  entrance  into 
the  same  apartment  to  which  Sara  had  been  introduced. 

"I  have  brought  important  dispatches,  Excellency." 

"Set  them  down — they  can  wait." 

"But— 

"What  are  they  about?" 

"They  need  your  consideration,  sir." 

"Consideration!  I  am  sick  of  considering.  If  only  I 
had  a  tent  about  me,  instead  of  picture-hung  walls,  ceil 
ings  with  fat-cheeked  grinning  imps,  soft  carpets,  ticking 
clocks,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  precious  paraphernalia. 
The  sight  of  brave  Czengery  and  a  cloud  of  Cossacks, 
the  smell  of  powder — something  to  stir  one's  blood,  that's 
what  I  want — not  physic  or  rest;  you  can't  make  a  silk 
en,  smooth-tongued  puppet  out  of  a  soldier.  What  is  it? 
Read  them." 

Popoloff  wiped  his  eternal  spectacles,  and  in  a  sing 
song  voice  drawled  through  a  long  official  report.  An- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  175 

other  followed,  then  several  shorter  ones,  the  General 
the  while  making  some  pencil  memoranda,  without 
speaking  a  word  or  ceasing  to  puff  at  his  cigarette. 

"That  is  all,  Excellency,"  said  Titus  at  length,  clearing 
his  voice,  which  had  grown  husky. 

"All,  is  it — and  enough,  I  should  think!  What  will 
Wielopolski  say  to  this?  Does  he  know?" 

"The  Marquis  has  read  the  dispatches,  sir." 

"Has  he?  Oh!  Well,  all  I  can  say  is  that  these  devils 
seem  to  be  going  ahead.  So  Nazimoff  has  found  it  neces 
sary  to  declare  Grodno,  Kovno,  and  Wilna  in  a  state  of 
siege." 

"Together  with And  Popoloff  enumerated  sev 
eral  less  important  places. 

"The  result,  probably,  of  renewed  efforts  on  the  part 
of  those  ruffians  Mieroslawski  and  Czartoryski,  I  sup 
pose." 

"You  are  not  far  wrong,  sir." 

"What — you  know  it?" 

"Well,  several  fresh  proclamations  have  been  discov 
ered  and  seized,  Excellency,  and  the  recent  increase  in 
the  agitation  is  traceable  to  no  other  cause." 

"The  scoundrels!  We'll  hang  them — we'll  hang  them 
yet;  but  meanwhile  they  are  free  to  trouble  us,  and  they 
are  missing  no  chance.  Have  you  been  able  to  obtain  the 
names  of  any  more  people  who  have  been  guilty  of  sup 
porting  this  movement  financially?  For  evidently  large 
sums  of  money  are  being  supplied." 

"Yes,  Excellency;  I  have  a  further  list  of  those  who 
are  known  to  have  done  so,  or  who  are  suspected.  They 
are  mainly  Jews,  but  in  the  forefront  of  their  ranks  stands 
Kasimir  Hernani.  I  mentioned  this  to  you  some  time 
back,  and  his  guilt  can  be  proved." 

"I  fancy  you  did.  I  remember  something  about  it. 
To  have  arrested  him  would  have  been  a  useful  step,  but 
considering  his  influence,  a  false  one,  or  it  should  have 
been  taken  long  ago." 


1/6  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"He  has,  I  find,  afforded  shelter  for  some  while  past 
to  that  young  desperado,  Count  Andrew  Dorozynski, 
who  is  accompanied  by  his  sister." 

"So  I  have  understood.  Watch  them  well,  Popoloff; 
know  where  to  lay  hands  on  them,  but  wait  for  the  word. 
I  will  consider  the  dispatches,  to  which  I  shall  have  an 
swers  later  in  the  day." 

These  last  decisive  remarks  were  Popoloff 's  dismissal. 
He  could  remain  no  longer,  for,  enveloped  in  clouds  of 
cigarette  smoke,  the  great  man  had  forgotten  his  exist 
ence.  So  with  his  colorless^  unfathomable  eyes  blinking, 
as  though  from  out  of  darkness  he  had  suddenly  been 
thrust  into  light,  Popoloff  shambled  off  to  a  room  where 
a  worse  annoyance  awaited  him.  Madam  Hourko  had 
sent  for  him.  He  could  not  remember  when  such  a  thing 
had  happened.  She  had  always  awaited  his  appearance, 
which  had  been  at  night  and  in  her  boudoir.  What  did 
it  mean?  The  General  no  longer  trusted  him — of  that 
he  was  convinced.  Never  a  \vord  of  confidence  of  late, 
not  a  single  allusion  to  his  mad  passion  for  the  Jewess, 
Sara  Hernani,  no  matter  how  dexterously  angled  for. 
To  declare  himself  overworked,  worried,  in  the  wrong 
box,  or  disgusted  at  instructions  received  from  St. 
Petersburg,  was  one  thing;  to  talk  of  his  love  affairs, 
quite  another.  He  frequently  did  the  former,  never  the 
latter  by  any  chance. 

Popoloff  \vas  agitated ;  he  had  noted  the  change  for  a 
while  past,  but,  rack  his  brain  as  he  would,  he  could  not 
discover  the  cause.  Had  some  of  his  side  issues,  his 
clever  little  intrigues  been  detected,  and  was  he  on  the 
verge  of  being  exposed,  disgraced,  banished?  The  Jew 
ish  and  Polish  gold,  subscribed  to  support  the  revolu 
tion,  and  of  which  he  had  given  so  good  an  account  to 
Hourko — \vas  it  known  that  some  of  it  had  found  its 
way  into  his  pockets?  It  might  be.  And  yet — no,  he 
would  not  think  of  such  a  thing.  Plenty  of  accusations 
might  be  launched  against  him,  but  proofs  would  be 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  177 

needed.  He  had  gone  to  work  with  such  care,  his  pre 
cautions  were  unique — bah!  he  was  too  old  a  fox  to  be 
caught.  It  was  impossible.  He  was  all  right.  So  in 
this  confident  mood,  patting  his  hollow  chest  as  though 
he  cared  naught  for  the  whole  world,  and  having  actu 
ally  surveyed  his  wrinkled,  yellow-skinned  face  in  a 
mirror,  he  presented  himself  to  madam,  whom  he  found 
in  the  same  little  octagon  chamber,  elegantly  attired, 
surrounded  by  canine  pets,  above  all  things,  warm. 

Olga  Pavlovna  had  not  altered  one  whit.  She  had 
reacFied  that  age  and  condition  at  which  people  seem 
loth  to  do  so,  and  was  still  the  little  lady  with  sharpened 
features  and  anaemic  face  crowned  with  straggling  rem 
nants  of  wiry  yellow  hair.  Disposed  upon  a  sofa,  with 
her  dogs  growling  defiance  from  her  skirts,  she  signed  to 
Popoloff  to  seat  himself  opposite  to  her,  so  that  the  light 
fell  full  upon  his  face,  and  when  he  had  done  so,  she 
dropped  one  word  interrogatively — 

"Well?" 

"Madam,"  stammered  Popoloff,  his  guilty  fears  re 
turning,  his  confidence  shaken  by  this  funny  reception. 

"What  have  you  to  tell  me?" 

"I,  madam?    Nothing." 

"Oh,  but  you  should  have." 

"But  surely  it  is  well  if  there  is  nothing  disturbing  to 
relate." 

"That  may  be — if  nothing  disturbing  has  happened. 
Shall  I  tell  you  something?" 

"If  it  please  you,  madam." 

"His  Excellency,  my  husband,  distrusts  you." 

PopolofFs  face  expressed  the  greatest  surprise. 

"His  Excellency  distrusts  me?" 

"Precisely.     I  sent  for  you  to  mention  that  important 

fact,  coupled  with  some  others  which  have  occurred  to 

me.     What  I  shall  tell  you,  I  have  thought,  for  weeks 

past.    Now  I  have  proof,  and  I  hasten  to  give  it  to  you. 

12 


178  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

His  Excellency  has  visited  the  Jewess — Sara  Hernani — 
at  dead  of  night." 

Popoloff  felt  himself  in  a  dilemma,  but  he  accepted  the 
situation  with  the  placidity  of  an  innocent  child.  His 
pale  eyes  dwelt  upon  Madam  Hourko  vacantly,  as 
though  he  did  not  comprehend,  or  was  very  tired,  then 
an  expression  of  surprise  slowly  awoke  in  them. 

"Is  it  possible?"  he  ejaculated. 

"It  is  true.  It  has  happened,  and  you — you  were  in 
ignorance,"  replied  madam  severely. 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  appear  incredulous. 

"But  there  is,  perhaps,  some  mistake.  I  can  scarcely 
credit  it."  Then  without  giving  time  for  an  answer,  his 
elbows  upon  his  knees,  his  long  bony  fingers  pointed 
together,  he  put  a  cunning  question:  "Is  the  informa 
tion  upon  which  madam  bases  her  statement  perfectly 
reliable?  I  have  a  little  doubt." 

"It  is  beyond  the  smallest." 

Baffled,  he  attempted  to  elicit  an  admission. 

"Of  course,  if  the  source —  "  he  began,  and  found 
himself  stopped. 

"We  will  pass  beyond  that,  sir.  I  am  content  to 
believe — that  is  sufficient." 

"Oh,  well,  certainly — then  no  more  can  be  said.'  Still, 
it  is  possible  that  his  Excellency  visited  the  house  for 
some  political  purpose,  or  owing  to  some  trivial  accident 
of  which  he  saw  no  reason  to  acquaint  me." 

"His  Excellency  visits  no  house  by  accident,  dis 
guised,  and  at  such  an  hour.  Whether  he  attained  his 
object,  that  of  seeing  this  base  woman,  I  am  unable  to 
say,  but  before  I  have  done  with  her  I  shall  extract  an 
admission  of  her  guilt." 

"Yes,  yes,  of  course — that  will  be  simple.  You  have 
only  to  will  the  thing,  madam,  and  such  a  trifle  as  the 
humiliation  or  extinction  of  a  corrupt  and  insolent 
Jewess,  must  at  once  follow.  But  I  am  soiry.  Bozhe 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  1/9 

moi,  *  to  think  how  I  have  slaved  to  be  of  service,  and 
how  in  this  instance  I  have  failed  !  Ah  !  I  am  grieyed  — 
I  am  grieved.  Yet  there  is  this  comfort,  madam  —  you 
must  feel  that  your  interests  are  ever  nearest  my  heart. 
I  can  never  forget  that  I  was  the  poor  tchinovnik  whom 


With  a  rapid  and  irritable  gesture  she  interrupted  him. 

"I  don't  know  —  I  don't  know.  Your  protestations 
need  testing.  I  am  wronged,  and  I  hate.  Help  me  to 
be  revenged  —  that  is  all  I  ask." 

"But,  madam,  I  would  lay  down  my  life  -  ' 

"So  you  say.  But  instead  of  words  I  require  deeds, 
or  I  must  seek  for  assistance  elsewhere." 

Popoloff  was  fairly  alarmed. 

"I  ask  time  and  your  confidence,"  he  whined.  "Then 
you  shall  see,  you  shall  be  satisfied." 

"Well,  you  know  the  price  of  my  favor,"  she  answered 
him,  grudgingly  becoming  pacified. 

"And  I  will  pay  it.    Ah  !   am  I  not  indebted  — 

"We  will  not  talk  of  that.  I  have  trusted  you,  and  I 
am  content,  so  long  as  I  may  continue  to  do  so.  It  rests 
with  you  to  prove  yourself  worthy.  I  am  resolved  that 
if  his  Excellency  plays  me  false,  he  shall  have  ample 
cause  to  repent  it.  I  will  spare  no  pains  to  make  him 
know  that  he  is  wronging  one  who  can  right  herself,  or 
who  at  least  is  not  such  a  poor  weak  fool  as  to  accept 
just  what  he  chooses  to  give.  If  you  take  trouble  and 
display  tact  you  will  soon  regain  his  favor.  Do  we 
understand  each  other?" 

"Without  doubt,  madam.  My  one  aim  shall  be  to 
serve  and  please  you  in  all  things." 

The  heavy  lids  descended  over  Olga  Pavlovna's  eyes; 
the  tired  expression  so  habitual  to  her  returned,  and  in 
silence  she  caressed  the  silky  coat  of  her  nearest  dumb 
friend,  who  gratefully  licked  her  hand,  which  was  long, 

*  "My  God,  Good  Heavens!" 


ISO  HERN  AN  I  THE  JEW. 

thin,  and  white.  Reclining  there,  she  looked  the  indo 
lent  and  jealous  wife  to  the  life. 

Titus  Popoloff  shifted  his  great  splay  feet  awkwardly. 
He  was  glad  of  a  momentary  respite,  and  he  fervently 
congratulated  himself,  too,  that  no  woman  was  tacked 
on  to  him,  whose  lynx  eyes  searched  his  paths,  and 
counted  his  steps.  For  a  moment  he  caught  himself 
wondering  what  had  become  of  Madam  Hourko's  pride, 
that  in  the  midst  of  her  brilliant  life  she  should  yet  make 
a  study  of  running  after  a  man  who  took  no  pleasure  in 
her.  Owing  to  her  position,  she  might  have  amused 
herself  with  many  lovers.  Could  she  not  content  her 
self?  What  was  the  use  of  righting  against  the  inevit 
able?  His  Excellency's  ways  could  be  changed  no  more 
easily  than  the  satin  coat  of  his  favorite  charger.  In 
this  way  the  pause  between  them  lasted  some  minutes, 
at  the  end  of  which  time,  one  of  the  little  dogs  toppled 
on  to  the  floor,  with  a  whine  which  became  a  snarl,  as 
Popoloff  ventured  to  put  him  in  his  place  again,  the 
noise  he  made  rousing  his  mistress. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  what  his  Excellency  intends  to  do 
with  this  woman?"  she  demanded  suddenly.  "When 
these  stupid  people,  these  Poles,  stand  up  to  have  their 
throats  cut,  in  the  uproar,  he  will  take  steps  to  secure 
her.  She  will  disappear,  with  his  assistance." 

With  a  woman's  intuition  she  had  suddenly  stumbled 
upon  Hourko's  pet  plan.  He  had  been  silent  and  inact 
ive,  because  he  intended  to  make  that  move.  He  had 
not  even  hinted  such  a  thing  to  a  soul  save  Popoloff, 
yet  his  wife  had  found  him  out.  Popoloff  looked  at  her 
and  admired  her  shrewdness. 

"It  is  possible,  madam,"  he  answered  her. 

"It  is  so — I  am  positive;  that  is  what  he  meditates. 
Now  we  must  defeat  him.  I  intend  that  this  Jewess  shall 
be  in  my  powrer,  not  his.  Do  you  understand  me?" 

"Perfectly " 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  l8l 

"We  shall  seize  her;  then  when  he  arrives  at  the  nest, 
he  will  find  it  empty.  Can  this  be  done?" 

"With  ease,  madam.  Trust  me — that  is  all  you  have 
to  do." 

"Very  well;  but  mind,  let  there  be  no  bungling.  Think 
—we  have  lots  of  time,  and  if  this  is  a  success,  as  it  must 
be,  you  may  count  upon  my  gratitude." 

Popoloff  bowed  and  went  away,  but  he  was  disturbed, 
not  satisfied,  and  he  told  himself  that  it  would  be  a  fine 
thing  if  he  could  contrive  to  do  without  either  the  Gov 
ernor  or  his  wife. 


l82  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

In  the  whole  course  of  her  life,  Riva  had  never  felt 
so  distressed,  so  miserable.  It  was  not  that  her  glances 
ahead  told  her  anything — she  had  no  mind  for  such 
things.  Her  trouble  lay  in  the  present,  and  was  always 
with  her — her  Alpha  and  Omega — beginning  and  end  of 
everything  being — Sara.  As  she  had  said,  apart  from 
her  she  had  no  interest  in  life.  And  Sara  was  an  altered 
being,  as  the  whole  household  agreed.  Her  moods  were 
incomprehensible.  She  was  lively,  and  sad,  and  silent. 
and  talkative  within  the  space  of  one  hour — though  to 
Riva  talkative,  never.  It  was  cruel  to  ignore  her  so. 
Could  it  be  that  she  did  it  on  purpose,  shunned  her  sys 
tematically,  and  when  they  were  together  became 
strangely  uncommunicative — reticent  all  at  once?  Riva 
preferred  to  think  not,  but  her  dark  eyes  grew  dim,  and 
her  heart  felt  like  failing  her,  when  the  smile  or  the  word 
she  had  waited  for  so  long,  so  seldom  came,  and  at  the 
best,  was  not  the  old  smile  or  tender  thrilling  voice 
known  to  her  from  prattling  babyhood.  In  vain  she 
kept  her  eyes  and  ears  open  and  preached  patience  to 
herself  in  her  own  quaint  way.  She  got  no  nearer  her 
goal — that  of  discovering  what  new  evil  ailed  Sara,  and 
relieving  her,  so  that  she  should  be  again  happier- 
more  like  herself.  Finally,  she  set  it  down  in  strong 
language  and  upon  the  ground  of  her  past  knowledge. 

"She  is  being  killed  by  inches — destroyed — my  lamb 
— and  it  is  the  master,"  she  wailed,  in  the  quiet  of  her 
own  little  chamber,  where  she  sat  doubled  up  in  a  chair 
— "it  is  the  master,  and  the  Holy  One  will  curse  him. 
sure  enough — with  such  a  wife — in  the  bosom  of  Abra 
ham  no  lovelier  could  rest — what  matters  it — children — 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  183 

the  fool !  To  see,  let  alone  touch  her,  should  be  pleasure 
enough  for  mortal.  And  here  she  is  eating  her  heart 
out.  The  man  is  an  ass,  and  thistles  should  be  his  food. 
The  bat  is  not  more  blind,  and  cursed  be  the  day  when 
he  first  saw  the  light!  I  grow  to  hate  him.  The  young 
gentleman,  the  young  noble,  he  sees  my  lamb's  worth; 
he  is  wise.  With  her  little  finger  held  up,  all  men  would 
run  to  her ;  but  this  one — the  one  lawfully  her  own — 
And  as  disturbed  as  ever,  Riva  fell  to  thinking. 

That  night  Sara  retired  early.  Hernani  and  Doro- 
zynski  were  out  as  usual,  and  Deotima,  under  cover  of 
night,  awhile  back  and  by  stealth,  had  journeyed  to  some 
relatives  to  rouse  them  with  her  woman's  voice,  to  pour 
into  their  ears  her  wrongs,  their  wrongs,  to  the  end 
that  the  Polish  eagles  might  be  borne  more  bravely 
aloft. 

Seated  before  her  toilet-table,  Sara  wore  a  long  loose 
wrap,  like  the  one  in  which  Hourko  had  surprised  her, 
and  behind  her  stood  Riva  ready  to  brush  her  hair.  The 
chubby  fists  of  two  china  cherubs  grasped  the  lighted 
candles  on  either  side  of  the  mirror,  reflected  in  which 
was  the  adorable  face  and  figure  of  this  apple  of  Riva's 
eye.  The  stove  was  lighted,  but  the  bed,  curtained  and 
dainty,  lay  in  gloom  like  the  rest  of  the  room. 

For  once  Sara  seemed  disposed  to  talk  a  little,  to  be 
gay,  despite  the  cold  dead  weight  at  her  heart.  Pin 
after  pin  was  removed — jeweled  some  of  them;  Herna- 
ni's  gifts  time  back — and  then  coil  upon  coil  fell  the 
fine  soft  rippling  hair  that  Riva  loved  to  brush. 

"Mine  is  getting  gray,"  remarked  the  woman,  as  she 
labored  with  deft  hands. 

"Yours!  Well,  but  that  is  natural;  you  are  no  longer 
a  chicken.  Is  not  age  the  cause?" 

"No — trouble.     It  was  black  enough  awhile  ago." 

"But  you  must  expect  such  changes.  Mine  will  b-j 
white  soon.  Live  for  the  day,  Riva;  it  is  the  only  way." 

"As  you  do,  my  lamb." 


184  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Oh!  let  me  alone.  I  am  past  redemption — hope 
less." 

"Hopeless?"  repeated  Riva. 

"Quite.  Did  you  get  those  things  I  reminded  YOU 
about?" 

"Yes,  that  I  did.  But  talk  as  you  were  beginning  to. 
I  love  the  sound  of  your  voice  always,  but  most  when  il 
rings  and  trembles,  thrilling  through  me." 

"But  you  hear  it  so  often.  And  we  must  not  be  seri 
ous;  I  want  to  laugh." 

"And  I  want  to  hear  you,  though  there  is  little  to 
laugh  at." 

"There  is  a  comical  side  to  everything.  When  you 
brush  my  hair  to  benefit  it,  you  pull  it  out.  The  man 
who  has  been  starving  must  not  eat  too  much.  Do  you 
remember  young  Jacob — shot  in  the  massacre?  His 
photograph  exhibited  as  that  of  a  patriot  and  martyr; 
his  loss  bewailed  by  all.  Well,  the  boy's  heroic  death 
was  a  good  day's  work  for  his  brothers;  it  reconciled 
the  uncle  to  the  family,  and  his  money  will  now  go  to 
them.  There  is  something  comical  in  a  man  dying  and 
being  sorrowed  for,  when  but  for  his  death  others  would 
starve." 

Aware  of  the  influence  Riva  could  sometimes  exert 
over  her,  Sara  talked  lightly,  preferring  to  monopolize 
the  conversation.  She  had  not  dared  to  open  her  lips 
upon  the  subject  of  her  hateful  nocturnal  meeting  with 
Hourko,  and  she  felt  the  secret  to  be  a  barrier  between 
them.  "Everything  is  known.  The  walls  listen,  and 
we  know  what  they  hear,"  had  rung  in  her  ears  ever 
since  that  night.  How  could  she  tell — what  might  come 
of  confidences,  living  as  she  did.  But  Riva  had  made 
up  her  mind.  There  should  be  an  understanding  be 
tween  them;  she  had  things  to  say,  and  say  them  she 
would,  while  she  had  the  chance,  that  her  lamb  might 
be  the  happier. 

"All  that  you  tell  me,"  she  answered,  "may  well  be 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  185 

I  am  not  wise,  and  my  head  buzzes  when  I  try  to  think. 
But  about  living  for  the  day — let  the  book  speak:  'Thy 
yesterday  is  thy  past,  thy  to-day  thy  future,  thy  to-mor 
row  is  a  secret.'  So  to  live  for  to-day  would  be  well.'' 

"Don't  tug  so,  Riva;  I  sha'n't  have  a  bit  of  hair  left 
soon." 

"I,  my  lamb?    You  can't  say  I  was  rough." 

"But  I  do." 

"Then  it  was  by  accident.  Ah!  you  have  been  cruel 
to  me  this  while  past.  Do  you  know  if  you  were  happy 
I  should  say  you  had  forgotten  old  Riva." 

"Oh!   I  shiver — I  must  get  into  bed." 

"Ah!  it  is  because  the  dear  feet  are  bare,  and  the 
pretty  legs — such  bits  of  things  when  I  knew  them  first 
—just  like  satin  for  all  the  world.  I  remember — so  well 
— so  well.  There,  with  that  stool  and  shawl,  no  cold  can 
come." 

"Thanks — that's  nice,  Riva." 

"And  I'll  not  be  long." 

"Oh!  I  don't  mind,  only  don't  let  us  talk  of  distress 
ing  things.  You  like  to,  I  fancy." 

"Never,  if  you  take  it  ill." 

"Well,  I  do.  I  want  all  my  courage.  I  have  enough 
to  bear." 

"That  have  you.  But  it  seemed  to  me,  time  back,  that 
whatever  came,  we  could  meet  it  together.  Never  a 
thought  apart  from  each  other;  it  was  Riva  this,  and 
Riva  that,  and  it  kept  me  alive." 

"But"  I  am  the  same  now,  Riva?" 

"No,  my  love." 

"How  could  I  alter  toward  you?" 

"But  you  have.    May  I  die  if  it's  not  so." 

"Not  at  heart,  I  tell  you.  Ah!  can't  you  see?  Some 
times  I  think  I  shall  go  mad." 

"But — my  poor  darling." 

"Don't,  Riva — don't.    I  can't  bear  it." 

"And  all  of  a  tremble  too." 


186  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"It's  nothing.  Listen;  will  you  do  this  for  me?  I 
have  scarcely  tasted  food  all  day.  No  one  noticed  it, 
but  I  couldn't,  my  head  was  racked." 

"No  one  noticed  it!     Surely  the  master — 

With  a  gesture  of  impatience,  Sara  interrupted  her. 

"Fetch  me  some  fowl  or  something  simple,  and  I'll 
eat  it  sitting  here.  I  shall  enjoy  it." 

Riva  was  away  and  back  again  with  a  tray  loaded 
temptingly,  and  after  a  long  pause,  during  which  the 
click  of  the  knife  and  fork  and  the  fainter  sound  of 
mastication  alone  broke  the  silence,  Sara  looked  up  at 
her. 

"Do  you  remember  how  you  used  to  cook  little  things 
and  bring  them  to  me?"  she  asked. 

"In  Cracow?" 

"Yes." 

"That  I  do." 

"And  how  I  discovered  that  you  were  pinching  and 
starving  yourself?" 

"No,  no — I  was  given  a  few  gulden.  Besides,  it's  best 
to  forget  all  that." 

"We  will  speak  of  it  only  for  a  moment.  It  is  often 
in  my  mind." 

"Is  it,  my  lamb?" 

"Often.  What  do  you  think  I'm  made  of,  Riva?  And 
then  you  say  I've  changed." 

"Did  I?  I  was  wrong,  and  had  better  have  bitten 
my  tongue  out.  Forgive  me." 

Sara  looked  at  her  fixedly  and  smiled,  and  the  smile 
was  sufficient  to  reconcile  them;  it  alone  was  enough. 
But  Riva  felt  emboldened.  She  had  things  to  say  and 
the  chance  was  a  good  one. 

"The  Russian,"  she  began  suddenly  in  a  strained  voice 
— "the  Governor — have  you  seen  him,  my  love,  since 
we  talked?" 

Sara  hesitated. 

"Yes,"  she  said  at  length,  firmly. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  187 

"Ah!    I  warned  you." 

"Warned  me  of  what?" 

"I  don't  wonder." 

"But  what  do  you  mean?" 

"Well,  he  is  a  great  man,  the  Russian.  Has  he  kept 
the  promise  he  made  you?  Has  he  been  good  to  the 
poor  and  fatherless?" 

"He  made  me  no  promise  that  he  would  be." 

"No!  Perhaps  my  old  head  fails  me.  He  was  to  do 
something,  though,  I  know — something  for  poor  folk 
like  the  Bielois." 

"Yes;  but  he  has  done  nothing." 

"Then  he  has  broken  his  word." 

"In  a  sense;   and  I  hate  him." 

"God  of  Israel,  could  it  be  otherwise!  What  did  I 
tell  you,  my  lamb?  An  old  head  is  better  than  a  young 
one.  Now  the  gentleman,  Count  Dorozynski,  would 
never  break  his  word,  I'll  warrant  me." 

"Perhaps  not.  I  don't  think  he  would.  But  what 
makes  you  speak  of  him?" 

"Oh!    my  own  thoughts." 

"What  are  they?     Tell  me." 

"It  is  best  not.     Silence  is  the  fence  round  wisdom." 

"But  I  wish  to  hear." 

Riva  leant  over  her,  her  black  eyes  glistening. 

"Do  you  remember  speaking  of  the  gold  and  finery 
in  the  great  Russian's  palace,  where  you  had  been?" 

"Yes;   but  you  have  told  no  one  that  I  went  there?" 

"Not  a  soul.  You  were  anxious  then,  and  your  heart 
was  heavy.  Is  it  lighter  now?" 

"What  good  can  come  of  troubling  you;  you  have 
your  own  load,  my  poor  Riva,  and  I  have  mine,  which 
I  must  bear  patiently." 

"But  is  it  heavy  still?" 

"Heavier  than  ever." 

"I  knew  it — I  knew  it  all  along.  And  I  have  been 
sleepless  because  of  it.  You  must  change — you  must 


1 88  HEP.  N  AMI  THE  JEW. 

alter  your  ways,  my  love.  Bound  up  in  this  house  and 
the  master,  your  beautiful  young  life  is  going.  Why 
should  it  be  so?  No  enjoyment — no  pleasure.  Slaving, 
seeing  no  one,  and  as  a  reward  always,  always,  no 
thanks." 

"Hush!    There  you  are  wrong,  Riva." 

"Wrong,  am  I?  Fit  mate  for  the  Princes  of  the  earth 
— and  neglected — that's  what's  wrong." 

"You  have  been  with  me  all  my  life,  but  can  be  no 
judge  either  of  what  I  am  fit  for,  or  what  would  be 
good  for  me.  No  other  eyes  see  me  as  yours  do.  You 
are  bigoted.  If  I  know  myself,  then  I  say,  I  was  made 
for  quiet,  and  simplicity,  and  love;  for  some  little  home 
where  the  sea  I  have  read  of  and  never  seen,  murmurs 
against  the  rocks ;  where  I  might  be  free  to  go  out  into 
the  fresh  fearless  wind,  and  feel  it  upon  my  cheeks  and 
drink  it  in,  and  live,  and  laugh,  and  be  happy  amongst 
the  flowers  and  the  sunshine.  Oh!  my  God — the  flow 
ers  and  the  sunshine  and  love.  Love  that  would  heal 
the  bruises,  the  scars,  the  gaping  wounds  within  me, 
that  would  stanch  the  sighs  and  lighten  the  load  of  liv 
ing,  and  by  its  purity — for  God  is  Love  and  God  is  pure 
—lift  one  nearer  and  nearer,  until  the  kind  clear  heav 
ens  absorbed  one,  and  one  rested  with  Him.  I  hate  this 
rush  and  sweat  for  gold.  I  have  hated  it  ever  since 
I  knew  it,  but  anything  was  well  that  he  loved,  since  he 
loved  me.  Is  it  too  late  yet — all  too  late,  Riva?  Would 
he,  if  I  went  on  my  knees,  tear  himself  from  this  ambi 
tion  and  strife,  and  come  with  me  to  where  in  quiet  he 
might  know  me  really  and  we  could  be  one?  But  what 
am  I  saying?  The  bright  visions  of  what  might  be, 
swarm  within  my  brain,  yet  there  is  no  substance  for 
them." 

"Ach,  no — that"  is  all  moonshine,  my  love,"  replied 
Riva  brusquely;  "the  master  will  stick  where  he  is,  as 
long  as  his  legs  carry  him.  Excitement  is  to  him  the 
breath  of  his  nostrils." 


HERNANI    THE  JEW.  189 

"I  believe  you  are  right." 

"Ach!  I  know  I  am.  You  can  get  no  old  bear  to 
dance  to  a  new  tune.  His  habits  are  formed  just  as  his 
bones  are  set.  But  see  now — if  I  were  you,  though  the 
times  are  ill  and  unchangeable,  I  would  amuse  myself — 
I'd  have  people  about  me  and  lovers  too.  The  master'd 
be  jealous,  and  serve  him  right;  but  see  the  good  of 
teaching  him  to  behave!  A  fine  strapping  lover. 
There's  no  saying  what  would  come  of  it.  No  father, 
no  child.  And  there  is  the  Count  to  your  hand;  follow 
ing  you  with  his  eyes  if  his  legs  take  rest;  near  al 
ways  when  chance  offers;  hanging  upon  your  words; 
wretched  out  of  your  sight;  ready  to  risk  his  life  for 
kiss  from  you.  Keep  your  own  counsel  and  grant  him 
his  desire.  Harden  your  heart  that  the  sorrow  of  your 
life  may  pass  and  the  master  be  at  your  feet  again." 

Sara  started  from  her  chair.  Erect  and  threatening, 
the  loose  robe  caught  about  her  waist  and  clinging  to 
her,  with  eyes  flashing  and  hands  tight  closed,  she 
looked  the  very  incarnation  of  anger  and  outraged 
dignity. 

"What!"  she  cried — "you  would  have  me  be  false  to 
my  husband,  false  to  myself  and  false  to  God?  How 
dare  you — how  dare  you  suggest  such  wickedness?" 

"Only  that — there  is  the  gett — and  a  child ' 

"The  gett!  Another  word  and  all  is  over  between  us! 
To  save  myself  from  the  cruelty  of  man  and  the  injus 
tice  of  the  law,  you  would  have  me  fathom  the  depths 
of  dishonor.  You  have  astounded  me.  No;  if  because 
I  am  barren  the  man  I  love  turns  me  adrift  in  the  world, 
I  shall  walk  through  it  starving  and  toiling,  sweeping 
the  streets,  searching  the  gutters  it  may  be,  yet  at  least 
striving  to  remain  as  honest  and  upright  as  when  I  en 
tered  it.  But  that  we  have  lived  all  our  lives  together 
I  should  hate  and  despise  you.  Despise  you  I  must  and 
do — but —  Ah!  you  may  well  weep — and  yet — no — 
Riva,  Riva,  my  old  nurse  and  friend,  listen — I  shall  for- 


190  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

get  it.  Something  is  amiss  with  you  to-day.  It  is  not 
you  who  has  spoken — it  is  someone  else.  You  meant 
it  well,  but  how  could  you  think  so  ill — and  so  ill  of  me? 
I  am  no  Saint,  and  for  love,  some  great  love,  I  might 
be  tempted  and  fall,  as  better  women  than  I  have  fallen ; 
but  to  save  myself  from  all  the  wretchedness  the  mind 
can  conceive,  I  should  never  have  thought  of  a  thing 
so  vile,  and  could  never  be  so  guilty  as  to  do  it.  I  am 
tired — tired;  help  me  into  bed — in  many  a  worse  one 
we  have  lain  together.  See — I  forgive,  and  time  will 
heal.  Let  us  sleep.  Sweet,  clean  sleep.  We  shall 
awake  purer  and  better.  Good-night." 
And  Riva  rushed  blubbering  from  the  room. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

If  Sara  knew  how  to  love,  she  also  knew  how  to  for 
give,  and  as  soon  as  she  had  digested  Riva's  bold  and 
even  unscrupulous  advice,  she  began  to  make  excuses 
for  her.  She  had  spoken  hastily  and  had  not  intended 
to  be  disrespectful  or  to  wound  her,  but,  having  been 
desperately  unhappy  on  her  account,  had  seen  but  this 
one  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  and  since  she  was  ill-born, 
ill-brought  up  and  ill-educated,  had  caught  at  it. 

A  lover  might  mean  a  natural  child,  which  it  would  be 
so  easy  to  foist  upon  Hernani.  He  would  never  be  the 
wiser  if  she  were  cautious,  and  at  one  bound  the  chasm 
between  them  would  be  bridged.  That  was  what  Riva 
had  meant,  and  had  nerved  herself  to  say,  in  the  fhost 
intelligible  language  at  her  command. 

Upon  the  suggestion  itself,  Sara  bestowed  scarce  a 
thought.  It  possessed  no  temptations  for  her.  In  fact, 
when  it  stood  out  in  all  its  repulsiveness,  she  turned  from 
it  with  loathing,  deciding  that  if  she  wished  to  look  Riva 
in  the  face  again,  and  treat  her  as  she  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  doing,  she  must  make  every  effort  to  forget  it. 
In  her  ready  good  nature  and  kindliness  of  heart,  she 
even  went  so  far  as  to  attach  some  blame  to  herself 
over  the  matter.  Had  she  thought  more  of  others,  and 
less  of  herself,  she  would  have  appeared  in  Riva's  eyes 
less  unhappy,  in  which  case  the  desperate  remedy  would 
never  have  been  suggested.  True,  she  had  striven  to  be 
energetic  and  cheerful,  but  to  avoid  the  chance  of  any 
impulsive  confidences  on  her  part,  had  put  an  end  to 
that  familiar  intercourse  which  had  been  the  one  endur 
ing  joy  of  the  woman's  life,  by  so  doing  thoughtlessly 
rendering  her  existence  intolerable.  That  was  the  cause 


192  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

of  Riva's  conduct.  She,  Sara,  had  been  wanting  in  con 
sideration  and  attention,  toward  one  who  had  served 
her  faithfully  over  the  whole  span  of  her  life,  and  who, 
by  her  devotion,  had  made  good  to  no  small  extent,  the 
loss  she  had  sustained  by  her  mother's  early  death. 
What  would  have  become  of  her  in  the  Cracow  days 
without  Riva?  What  should  she  have  done  without  her 
always?  Yes,  she  had  been  thoughtless  and  bad.  With 
such  reasoning  as  this,  she  strove  to  gloss  over  defects, 
and  find  excuses  for  retaining  Riva  intact  in  her  heart. 

Of  course  these  views  took  time  to  shape  and  arrange 
themselves  in  her  mind,  and  were  to  some  extent  trace 
able  to  the  abject  penitence  displayed  by  Riva,  but  the 
result  was  that  she  reinstated  her  in  her  favor,  almost 
too  rapidly,  some  would  have  thought. 

Meanwhile  the  household  routine  continued  un 
changed.  Hernani  retired  to  his  bureau  for  the  pur 
pose  of  transacting  his  business  as  of  old.  The  hours 
for  meals  were  the  same,  and  between  them  Sara  attend 
ed  to  her  womanly  duties,  received  an  occasional  caller, 
or  went  to  the  synagogue,  while  the  Count  busied  him 
self  as  he  saw  fit.  In  the  evening,  the  two  men  discussed 
their  projects,  or  went  out  in  furtherance  of  the  absorb 
ing  and  dangerous  plans  on  hand,  Sara  singing,  read 
ing,  or  sewing  the  while,  missing  Deotima  much,  wish 
ing  for  her  return  a  good  deal,  but  throughout,  learn 
ing  to  bear  the  load  of  her  own  troubles  with  patience 
and  fortitude.  She  thought  it  only  wise  and  right  to 
assume  an  attitude  of  reserve  toward  the  Count,  and 
while  gradually  doing  so,  was  mindful  to  watch  for  any 
of  those  symptoms  of  admiration  of  which  Riva  had 
spoken  of  so  boldly. 

And  so  in  this  way  time  crept  on,  one  day  closely  re 
sembling  another,  except  that,  instead  of  discussing  the 
effect  and  benefits  to  be  derived  from  a  petition  to  be 
presented  to  the  Governor-General  by  Count  Zamoyski, 
it  began  to  be  rumored  that  the  Count  would  have  noth- 


HERNANI    THE  JEW.  193 

ing  to  say  to  the  project,  and  had  even  torn  up  the  draft 
of  the  document;  then,  that  he  had  been  interviewed  by 
his  Excellency,  who  had  decided  that  he  must  proceed 
to  St.  Petersburg  for  the  purpose  of  seeking  audience 
of  the  Emperor;  and  after  a  brief  delay,  a  pause,  during 
which  speculation  was  rife,  came  the  crushing  announce 
ment  that  his  Imperial  Majesty  had  ordered  Count 
Zamoyski  to  quit  the  country — had  exiled  him  in  fact; 
and  upon  receipt  of  that  piece  of  information — as  is  well 
known — there  arose  in  men's  minds  and  upon  their 
tongues,  a  great  clamor  of  indignation. 

All  these  many  and  weighty  matters  Sara  heard  dis 
cussed  and  sifted  by  Hernani  and  Count  Andrew,  during 
long  hours  of  patient  listening,  until  in  place  of  them 
arose  the  shadow  of  the  long,  dimly-threatened  Con 
scription,  to  which  it  was  affirmed  the  Marquis  Wielo- 
polski  lent  his  countenance  and  support. 

And  it  was  beneath  the  lofty  span  of  glass,  in  the  great 
hall,  when  seated  before  the  silver  samovar,  that  Sara 
first  came  to  know  of  the  serious  and  disturbing  nature 
of  this  arbitrary  project.  In  the  warm  atmosphere  which 
was  due  to  partly-concealed  and  admirably-arranged 
stoves,  she  dispensed  her  tea — the  beverage  so  dear  to 
her — in  delicate  china  cups,  which  Hernani  and  the 
Count  accepted  from  her  hands  and  solemnly  sipped, 
amidst  the  cool  green  foliage  of  the  tropic  plants,  the 
refreshing  odor  of  flowers,  and  the  gentle  soothing  mur 
mur  of  the  fountain. 

"This  threat  of  the  Conscription  will  be  found  to  be 
the  last  straw/'  announced  Hernani,  returning  his  cup 
for  replenishment. 

"Upon  whose  back?"  inquired  the  Count,  though  an 
ticipating  Hernani's  answer. 

"The  people  will  not  submit  to  be  torn  from  their 
beds,  and  whipped  away  from  their  homes  and  their 
lawful  callings." 

"I  don't  know.      Their    courage    seems    gone,    their 

13 


194  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

spirit  broken.  What  about  the  massacres,  the  arrests 
even  in  the  house  of  God,  the  dissolution  of  the  Agri 
cultural  Society — last  of  all,  Zamoyski's  cruel  and  in 
solent  dismissal?  They  have  borne  all  that,  and  only 
talked." 

"Well,  you  will  see,  you  will  find  me  a  true  prophet. 
And,  moreover,  you  forget  that  those  events  have 
ripened  their  minds,  slowly  but  surely,  as  the  sun  ripens 
the  fruit  upon  the  wall.  For  the  last  two  years  their 
protests  have  been  gathering  in  volume  and  violence, 
and  if  this  iniquitous  act  be  perpetrated,  with  one  con 
sent  they  will  agree  that  the  moment  for  an  appeal  to 
arms  has  arrived.  Are  their  sons  to  be  dragged  from 
them  by  brute  force,  arrested  in  the  public  thorough 
fares,  and  compelled  to  serve  in  the  ranks  of  their  ene 
mies?  Many  a  peaceable  and  hard-working  citizen  in 
this  town  would  rather  see  his  child  under  the  sod." 

"If  what  you  say  be  true,  God  be  thanked!"  mur 
mured  the  Count  earnestly. 

"He  is  already  thanked,  then,  as  you  will  see  shortly 
enough.  The  agitation,  so  widespread  and  so  well  sus 
tained,  has  revived  historical  recollections,  and  made  the 
youth  of  the  land  patriots,  just  as  much  as  those  whose 
pockets  are  pinched,  and  whose  wounds  still  smart  from 
the  failure  of  the  '30  attempt.  That  the  great  nobles 
may  remain  quiet  for  a  time  is  likely  enough.  We,  the 
party  of  action,  they  say,  have  nothing  to  lose — disaster 
to  us  would  mean  nothing.  For  them  it  would  be  dif 
ferent.  They  have  proud  names  which  might  be  black 
ened,  and  rich  estates  which  might  go  forfeit,  and  they 
argue,  as  we  know,  that  Europe  is  tranquil,  and  so  that 
the  time  has  not  come.  But  after  shamelessly  hanging 
fire  for  a  while,  they  will  join  us  to  a  man;  then  too  we 
shall  be  helped,  as  Italy  was.  France  or  England  will 
come  to  our  assistance,  as  I  have  contended  all  along, 
and  in  support  of  my  contention,  see  how  the  press  up 
holds  our  cause.  We  have  only  to  leap  to  arms — that 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  IQ5 

is  all.  They  know  as  well  as  we  do  that  the  ranks  of  our 
foes  are  torn  by  dissensions,  that  the  Muscovite  army 
is  not  what  it  was  six  years  ago,  that  the  soldier  does 
not  respect  his  officer,  and  that  nothing  but  corporal 
punishment  can  make  him  obey;  but  they  don't  know 
what  we  do — that  the  bulk  of  the  officials  in  this,  the 
capital  of  Poland,  have  no  real  belief  in  a  rising." 

"But  how  do  you  know  that?"  inquired  Sara. 

"From  a  dozen  reliable  sources,"  replied  Hernani 
promptly. 

"Yes,  that  is  true  enough,"  the  Count  chimed  in,  "and 
it  is  a  great  point  in  our  favor." 

"Of  course  it  is — one  of  vital  importance;  but  hear 
me  out.  They — the  public,  you  understand — know  that, 
politically,  Russia  is  in  the  throes  of  dissolution,  that 
disaffection  is  rife  throughout  the  land,  that  the  students 
are  unmanageable,  the  discipline  of  the  military  schools 
lax  to  a  degree,  and  that  incendiary  fires  in  Petersburg 
are  of  constant  occurrence." 

"Yes,  that  is  so — that  is  all  right,"  assented  the  Count; 
"but,"  he  added  irrelevantly,  "what  a  deep  game  that 
Wielopolski  is  playing." 

"Ah!  I  believe  you.  He  is  a  misguided  man,"  af 
firmed  Hernani  solemnly,,  "and  would  sacrifice  or  sell 
anything  and  everything  to  obtain  power." 

"But  is  there  really  any  truth  in  the  rumor  that  he 
intends  levying  these  forces,  to  the  number  ot  several 
thousands,  from  families  of  all  classes,  thereby  seizing 
those  best  able  to  strike  a  blow  for  their  country's  free 
dom?" 

"Yes — every  truth,  I  believe." 

Suddenly  Sara  interposed.  No  one  would  listen  to 
her — it  was  really  past  a  joke. 

"Well,  there,  drink  this  tea  while  it  is  hot,"  she  said; 
and  the  simple  blow  fell  like  a  bomb.  It  was  so  ridicu 
lous  to  descend  to  tea-drinking.  Hernani  could  have 
dashed  his  cup  down,  but  he  replied  by  emptying  it,  and 


196  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

clattering  it  in  the  saucer  as  he  replaced  it,  in  a  way 
which  said  as  plainly  as  words  could  have  done,  "How 
trumpery  are  a  woman's  ideas,  at  a  moment  when  they 
should  be  great!" 

There  was  an  awkward  pause.  Hernani  was  for 
continuing  the  conversation,  when  the  Count  inter 
rupted  him. 

"I  am  getting  anxious  about  Deotima,"  he  said; 
"already  it  is  dark  and  bitterly  cold,  I  suppose.  Let  us 
go  and  see  if  there  is  any  sign  of  her" — to  which  sugges 
tion  Hernani  silently  assented,  and,  having  carefully 
wrapped  themselves  up,  they  left  the  house  together. 

Within  the  hour  the  Count  returned,  without  Hernani 
but  accompanied  by  Deotima,  who  had  arrived  overflow 
ing  with  health  and  spirits,  having  met  with  the  greatest 
kindness,  and  being  thoroughly  satisfied  with  the  result 
of  her  journey.  She  had  been  escorted  into  the  town  by 
one  of  Hernani's  trusted  agents,  and  she  was  loud  in 
her  praise  of  his  forethought  and  attention. 

When  she  had  removed  her  furs,  and  stood  up  smell 
ing  of  the  cold  and  fresh  sweet  air  of  the  country,  in  an 
uncontrollable  outburst  of  brotherly  affection  the  Count 
took  her  in  his  arms,  imprinting  two  vigorous  kisses 
upon  her  smooth  pink  cheeks;  then  he  pushed  the  fair 
wavy  hair  from  her  forehead,  and  stepped  back  a  couple 
of  paces  to  examine  her  critically. 

"Upon  my  word,  you've  improved  vastly,"  he  re 
marked  enthusiastically;  "you've  grown,  I  do  believe! 
I  feel  smaller  than  ever  alongside  of  you;  and  what  a 
fine  figure!  Many  a  fellow  would  envy  me  those  kisses, 
wouldn't  they?"  he  inquired  abruptly  of  Sara;  "and  the 
two  of  you  make  a  picture,  to  which  this  perfectly 
artistic  room  is  the  frame.  One  dark  and  the  other  fair, 
and  both  so  charming.  Even  with  my  knowledge  of 
languages,  I  should  find  it  difficult  to  describe  quite 
what  I  see  and  think."  Then,  since  Sara  did  not  appear 
to  relish  his  glowing  compliments,  he  drew  in  his  horns 


HERNAN1  THE  JEW.  197 

a  little.  "Well,  come  and  sit  down  and  tell  me  your  news. 
Did  you  receive  a  great  deal  of  attention?  How  many 
conquests  did  you  make,  and  how  many  duels  have  been 
fought  over  you?  Come — I  want  to  hear  everything." 

Deotima  seated  herself  beside  him,  and  with  an  irre- 
sisitibly  coquettish  toss  of  her  fair  head  and  pout  of  her 
full  wide  lips,  said — 

"Ah!  then  you  want  to  hear  too  much,  sir.  You  are 
not  a  bit  changed — just  the  same  impudent  old  Andrew. 
Has  he  been  good — really  good?"  she  inquired  of  Sara. 

"Very." 

"No  trouble  to  you?" 

"Not  in  the  least,"  answered  Sara,  laughing. 

"So  that  I  may  tell  him  a  little  of  what  I  have  done 
and  seen?" 

"Yes,  I  think  you  may.  But  here  is  some  nice  fresh 
tea.  You  had  better  have  some  first,  since  you  must  be 
cold  and  tired,  then  talk  to  him,  and  come  and  have  a 
long  chat  with  me  when  you  have  finished.  I  have 
missed  you  very  much,  so  we  must  make  up  for  lost 
time." 

"Now  that  is  sweet  and  kind  of  you." 

"But  it  is  better — it  is  true." 

"Well,  don't  leave  me — I  am  afraid  of  Andrew.  Come 
and  sit  close  to  me  and  hear  all  I  have  to  say,  the  bulk 
of  it  being  serious  matter.  Yes ;  now  we  shall  do  splen 
didly.  Well,  Andrew,  uncle  and  aunt  send  affectionate 
messages,  and  the  girls  forward  kisses." 

"Thanks — I'd  rather  have  the  originals." 

"You  hateful  boy!     If  I  thought  you  meant  it!" 

"I  do." 

"I  refuse  to  believe  you.  What! — Cara  with  her  pro 
jecting  teeth  and  ugly  gums — that  is,  when  she  laughs. 
Mariette  with  her  pasty  face,  her  freckles,  and  her  red 
hair;  and  Barbel  with  her  great  feet,  her  snub  nose,  and 
chronic  cold!  Don't  tell  me;  if  so,  your  taste  must  be 
execrable.  Well,  all  want  to  see  you;  more  than  that, 


198  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

all  want  to  marry  you,  and  Barbel  declares  she  will  have 
no  one  else." 

"A  nice  lookout  for  me!  Of  course  you  reminded 
them  of  my  peculiar  but  unalterable  opinions  upon  the 
merits  of  single  blessedness?" 

"I  told  them  nothing  untrue,  but  I  reminded  them  of 
the  fact  that  you're  a  naughty,  fickle  boy,  incapable  of 
sticking  to  any  woman." 

"Ah!1  What  a  jolly  reception  I  shall  get  there — next 
time." 

"Listen  to  me  and  don't  talk  so  much.  Adam  is  as 
precocious  as  ever,  but  Ladislaus  has  improved  im 
mensely — he  is  charming.  I  am  certain  you  would  like 
him.  But  come — we  really  must  be  serious.  I  can  as 
sure  you  there  has  been  no  such  thing  as  frivolity  while 
I  have  been  away.  There,  as  here,  one  hope  fills  all 
hearts — the  resurrection  of  Poland.  I  bring  nothing  but 
good  news.  The  pamphlets  and  proclamations,  scat 
tered  so  cleverly,  have  taught  the  peasantry  the  differ 
ence  between  right  and  wrong;  they  are  stirred  up,  and, 
no  longer  asleep,  are  ready  for  anything.  If  this  cruel 
Conscription  be  resorted  to,  from  the  Baltic  to  the 
Dneister,  there  will  go  up  one  great  and  unanimous 
shout  for  Liberty." 

The  click  of  the  door  handle,  and  the  sound  of  some 
one  entering  the  room,  prevented  Deotima  from  saying 
more,  and,  almost  sobbing  from  excess  of  feeling,  she 
remained  silent,  as  Hernani  approached  her.  He  w^as 
pale,  and  from  his  manner,  usually  so  calm,  it  could  be 
seen  that  something  of  importance  had  transpired.  Re 
covering  herself,  she  continued — 

"We  took  long  drives  and  walks;  not  a  moment  of 
the  day  was  lost  in  idleness;  we  were  up  and  working, 
early  and  late,  and  what  I  saw  and  heard  has  inspired 
me  with  confidence  rather  than  with  distrust.  My  feel 
ing  now  is  that  the  supreme  moment  has  arrived.  T 
should  tell  vou  also  that  Adam  and  Ladislaus,  between 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  199 

them,  have  got  together  a  small  but  well-equipped  body 
of  horse,  composed  of  their  own  friends  and  acquaint 
ances,  and  have  at  the  same  time  been  successful  in  im 
porting  and  secreting  a  quantity  of  arms  and  ammuni 
tion.  They  taught  me  how  to  shoot  at  a  mark,  and  you 
would  be  surprised — I  am  quite  an  expert  now." 

Having  exchanged  a  few  sentences  with  Deotima  and 
congratulated  her  upon  her  apparent  good  health  and 
safe  return,  Hernani  contrived  to  whisper  to  the 
Count— 

"Come  with  me;    I  want  a  word  with  you." 

"What  is  it  now?  Has  something  gone  amiss?"  in 
quired  the  Count  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 

Hernani  closed  the  door  of  the  apartment  into  which 
he  had  led  him,  and,  glancing  round  as  though  to  make 
sure  that  they  were  the  sole  occupants  of  it,  he  ex 
claimed — 

"The  efforts  of  the  Rzad*  have  failed.  Wielopolski 
has  carried  the  day.  The  Conscription  will  be  drawn. 
His  threatened  resignation  as  head  of  the  civil  admin 
istration  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  pressure  he  has 
brought  to  bear,  will  end  in  this  raid  upon  the  people; 
for  it  is  nothing  else.  Already  the  police  have  received 
their  instructions." 

"But  when  will  they  act?  What  date  is  fixed?"  de 
manded  the  Count. 

"Ah!  there  my  information  is  at  fault.  The  strictest 
secrecy  is  maintained.  It  may  be  to-night.  Upon  that 
point,  as  also  upon  the  names  contained  in  the  list,  I 
am  entirely  ignorant.  But  it  will  be  an  attack  upon  all 
classes — merchants,  schlacta,f  everyone.  I  have  some 
thing  even  more  weighty  to  tell  you,  so  far  as  I  am  con 
cerned — sit  down,  here  are  some  cigarettes — something 


*  Secret  Committee,  Government. 
t  Lesser  nobility,  without  office. 


2OO  HERNAN1  THE  JEW. 

that  will  put  a  rifle  in  my  hands  quicker  than  I  had 
thought." 

The  Count  began  smoking  and  settled  himself  to 
listen. 

"You  know  how  gloomy  and  deserted  the  Saksonski 
Sad*  is  at  this  season  of  the  year — not  a  flower  to  be 
seen — only  snow  or  dead  leaves  and  muddy  walks? 
Well,  I  was  crossing  it  near  the  cafe,  where  the  trees 
grow  thickly,  when  a  man  sprang  on  to  the  path,  not  five 
paces  ahead  of  me.  Absorbed  in  thought  though  I  was, 
in  an  instant  I  had  set  the  fellow  down  as  a  Russian, 
and  a  hired  assassin  perhaps;  so  with  a  bound  I  had 
him  by  the  neck. 

"  'Remove  your  hand  from  my  throat,  batuishka/f 
he  said  quietly,  without  a  sign  of  resistance;  'do  you 
not  see  who  I  am?'  The  voice  I  did  not  know,  but, 
uncertain  though  the  light  was,  I  thought  I  remembered 
the  face,  so  I  eased  my  grip. 

"  'Who  are  you,  and  what  are  you  doing  here?'  I 
shouted,  in  no  mood  for  trifling. 

"'Easy,  easy,  batuishka;  lower  your  voice,  if  you 
please,  and  pay  good  heed  to  what  I  am  about  to  tell 
you.  It  is  of  importance.  Who  I  am  I  shall  keep  to 
myself;  on  the  other  hand,  who  you  are  is  already 
known  to  me,  which  is  sufficient  for  my  purpose.' 

"  'And  what  may  that  be?'  I  asked. 

" 'Bozhe  moi,J  batuishka,  I  will  tell  you!  Nu,§  it  is 
to  furnish  you  with  valuable  information  in  return  for 
a  sufficient  sum  of  money,  upon  which  we  will  agree.' 

"  'But  how  am  I  to  know  that  the  information  will  not 
be  worthless?'  I  again  asked. 

"  'Because  I  do  not  desire  payment  until  you  have 
proved  the  truth  of  what  I  propose  to  tell  you.  On  my 
part,  I  intend  to  trust  you,  because  of  the  reputation  you 


*  Saxon  Gardens.  t  Little  father, 

t  "My  God,  good  Heavens!"  §  Well. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  2O1 

enjoy.  Now  answer  me  quickly,  for  I  have  no  time  to 
lose.  If  I  can  save  your  wife  from  peril,  will  you  pay  me 
well?' 

"My  fears  excited,  I  instantly  said  'Yes.' 

"  'How  much?'  Unhesitatingly  I  proposed  a  large 
sum.  In  short,  we  came  to  terms,  my  agreement  being 
to  pay  him  when  he  should  seek  me,  and,  as  near  as  I 
can  remember,  these  were  his  words:  'I  have  learned 
that  your  house  is  again  to  be  visited  by  the  police,  and 
your  wife,  your  beautiful  wife,  seized.  You  know  what 
that  means.' 

"  'When?'  I  demanded,  trembling  so  with  excitement 
that  I  could  scarcely  speak. 

'  'That  is  a  question  you  must  answer  for  yourself. 
Perhaps  to-night — who  knows?  All  I  advise  is,  get  her 
out  of  the  way,  or  any  day  your  hair  may  turn  white 
with  grief.  Now  I  have  told  you.  It  is  the  truth.  It 
now  remains  for  you  to  act.'  And  the  man  slid  away 
between  the  tree  stems,  with  a  peculiar  shuffling  gait 
I  shall  not  readily  forget,  though  not  before  I  had 
crammed  every  ruble  I  had  about  me  into  his  hand. 
Now  what  do  you  think  of  the  whole  story?" 

The  Count  cleared  his  throat,  took  another  whiff  of 
his  cigarette,  and  then  spoke. 

"That  it  is  a  true  one,"  he  said  briefly. 

"My  opinion  precisely.  What  object  could  be  gained 
by  telling  me  a  lie?" 

"None,  of  course.  He  was  there  to  make  money  out 
of  you,  without  doubt.  What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"The  Holy  One  direct  me!  I  have  not  decided  yet. 
It  is  a  terrible  position  to  be  placed  in — just  consider 
— one's  wife.  I  was  so  distressed  that  I  could  scarcely 
speak  when  I  came  to  tell  you.  Would  they  see — your 
sister  or  my  wife — that  something  was  amiss  with  me?" 

"No,  I  don't  think  so,"  answered  the  Count,  feeling 
bound  to  say  something  consoling. 

"I  am  glad  of  that.    I  did  my  best  to  appear  as  usual. 


202  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

Well,  I  must  take  proper  measures,  and  to-night.  This 
is  why  the  police  have  remained  inactive.  They  have 
waited  for  the  eve  of  this  Conscription,  and,  calculat 
ing  on  the  commotion  resulting,  are  prepared  to  take 
steps  which  in  quieter  times  would  occasion  an  uproar. 
The  papers  they  seized  are  at  the  bottom  of  this  piece  of 
cruelty.  One  thing  is  certain — I  would  rather  shoot  her 
than  see  her  fall  into  the  power  of  these  brutes,  who, 
like  machines,  are  without  conscience  or  heart.  They 
shall  never  take  her  alive.  God  of  Israel — how  long — 
how  long — what  I  suffer  at  this  moment  passes  descrip 
tion!"  And  Hernani,  completely  overcome,  sank  into 
a  chair  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

After  a  while,  growing  calmer,  he  rose  to  his  feet  and 
paced  the  room,  censuring  himself  aloud.  "This  is  fool 
ish — this  is  weak  and  unworthy  of  me.  Any  man  may 
be  brave  when  the  current  is  with  him.  But — at  a  mo 
ment  such  as  this —  Ah!  what  have  we  to  fear?  The 
Holy  One  has  us  in  His  keeping."  Then  suddenly,  as 
though  a  good  idea  had  struck  him  at  last,  he  said — 

"That  is  it — that  will  do.  I  have  arranged  it  all.  This 
is  the  course  we  will  take.  Nikolay  Brauman  is  in 
debted  to  me.  I  could  not  ask  too  much  of  him.  We 
will  go  with  Sara  and  your  sister  and  give  them  into 
his  charge.  If  an  attack  were  made  upon  this  house,  he 
and  his  sons  would  devise  means  for  their  escape,  and 
would  resist  to  the  death  rather  than  yield — that  is,  if 
I  require  it  of  them.  And  as  yet  the  police  have  not 
treated  him  with  suspicion.  They  would  be  safe  there. 
I  will  see  to  it  at  once.  Go  and  rejoin  them  and  keep 
them  in  good  spirit.  Say  that  I  have  gone  out  but  will 
return  soon."  And  Hernani  prepared  to  leave  the 
house.  Later  in  the  evening  he  again  spoke  to  the 
Count. 

"Nikolay  Brauman  will  do  all  I  want,"  he  said;  "we 
have  only  to  retire  with  them  through  the  garden:  then, 
once  they  are  safe,  you  and  I  will  come  back,  and  unless 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  203 

visited  by  these  devils  disguised  as  men,  we  will  remain, 
perhaps — who  can  tell? — our  last  night  for  a  while  in 
this  house.  Above  all  things,  guard  these  timid  ones 
from  alarm." 

The  Count  simply  nodded.  Full  of  the  gravity  of  the 
outlook,  he  could  not  even  smoke  for  the  moment.  Alone 
with  Sara,  Hernani  spoke  so  plausibly  that  at  first  she 
was  deceived.  He  told  her  that  in  view  of  the  Conscrip 
tion,  and  not  knowing  when  it  might  be  enforced,  it 
would  be  well  to  remove  to  Brauman's  house.  This  was 
all  the  more  necessary  because  the  police  had  already 
made  themselves  obnoxious,  as  she  was  aware.  With 
Nikolay  Brauman  they  would  be  at  ease,  since  he  had 
no  employes  who  might  be  sought  on  the  premises. 

To  which  reasoning  Sara  agreed,  though  not  without 
flutterings  of  the  heart,  and  misgivings  which  grew  into 
shape,  when  Hernani,  driven  to  it,  suggested  the  expe 
diency  of  taking  with  them  many  necessaries — which  in 
his  anxiety  he  began  to  enumerate — and,  in  addition,  a 
good  stock  of  clothing. 

"What  in  the  world  for?"  Sara  demanded,  facing  him. 

"Because  it  will  be  best,"  he  answered  nervously,  still 
striving  to  appear  unconcerned. 

Startled  by  the  expression  of  his  face  beneath  her 
steady  gaze,  she  seized  his  wrist  and  forced  him  to  look 
at  her. 

"You  are  deceiving  me.  You  are  keeping  something 
from  me.  Kasimir — I  believe — ah!  tell  me  for  the  love 
of  God.  Is  anything  wrong?  What  has  occurred?  How 
white  and  stern  you  look.  You  frighten  me." 

"Frighten  you?  How  can  you  imagine  such  things? 
Do  as  I  say,  then  it  will  be  well  with  you,"  Hernani  con 
trived  to  answer. 

"But  why  should  there  be  a  mystery  between  us?  Do 
you  hope  to  save  me  pain  by  treating  me  like  a  child?  It 
is  true  that  when  I  came  here,  I  was  one,  almost.  But 
now  it  is  different.  I  am  a  woman,  old  enough  and 


204  HERNANI   THE  JEW. 

strong  enough  to  know  and  bear  the  weight  of  all  that 
distresses  you." 

Her  words  sank  into  his  heart  and  unnerved  him.  He 
forgot  his  grievances — everything,  but  that  Sara  was  be 
fore  him,  mingling  her  breath  with  his,  her  beautiful 
head  flung  back,  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  her  eyes, 
so  soft  and  luminous,  looking  into  his,  while  her  voice — 
the  voice  he  loved  so  well — thrilled  through  him  as  her 
pleading  tones  fell  upon  his  ear.  Half  suffocated  with 
emotion,  he  murmured — 

"Don't,  dearie." 

Years  seemed  to  have  elapsed  since  he  had  addressed 
her  so  tenderly. 

"But  my  place  is  by  your  side,"  she  insisted,  pushing 
her  little  warm  hand  into  his;  "and  I  ought  to  know 
what  steps  we  are  about  to  take,  and  why  we  are  taking 
them.  Won't  you  tell  me?  In  any  case — you  want  me 
to  be  ready  to  go  where  you  wish  to-night.  Well,  you 
may  depend  upon  me." 

Overcome  by  his  feelings,  the  immense  importance 
and  sadness  of  the  situation  pressing  upon  him,  he  was 
about  to  reply  to  her,  but  the  words  died  upon  his 
tongue.  What  could  he  tell  her — that  the  police  were 
tracking  her,  and  that  for  her  sake  this  flight  was  neces 
sary?  A  sweat  broke  out  upon  his  forehead.  He  sucked 
the  hairs  of  his  moustache  between  his  teeth  and  bit 
them;  in  his  nervous  anguish  he  even  bit  his  lower  lip 
until  it  bled.  Then — suddenly — he  drew  away  his  hand; 
this  was  no  time  for  weakness.  Every  instant  was  most 
precious.  On  the  point  of  leaving  his  home,  of  taking 
up  arms  in  a  great  cause,  spies  and  police  swarming,  per 
haps  even  about  to  lose  his  wife,  he  must  be  strong — 
it  was  demanded  of  him. 

"Another  time  I  may  be  able  to  speak  more  plainly 
to  you,"  he  said,  the  stern  expression  she  had  com 
plained  of  returning;  for  the  present  I  can  only  say, 
pack  and  be  ready,  and  it  will  be  well." 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  205 

The  calm,  firm  tone  in  which  the  words  were  uttered 
left  no  room  for  remonstrance;  she  could  only  regard 
him  wistfully  for  a  moment,  her  desires  and  her  anxi- 
ties  crowding  into  her  mind — it  seemed  all  at  once — 
then  she  turned  and  left  him. 

They  had  been,  it  appeared,  upon  the  verge  of  a  recon 
ciliation,  which  in  her  opinion  rested  with  him  to  bring 
about,  and  which  would  have  been  so  simple  and  at  the 
same  time  so  delightful.  Would  it  ever  come  to  pass? 
she  wondered.  Then  she  set  to  work.  By  ten  o'clock- 
she  had  made  her  preparations,  her  last  act  being  to 
linger  in  the  rooms  she  loved,  and  with  a  vivid  recollec 
tion  of  the  happiness  she  had  felt,  even  on  first  entering 
them,  to  say  to  each  in  turn,  "Good-bye,  good-bye."  It 
cost  her  a  frightful  wrench  to  tear  herself  away.  Two 
or  three  times  she  returned,  on  each  occasion  discover 
ing  something  she  could  not  part  with — some  gift-- 
some  souvenir  of  Hernani's  which  they  had  bought  to 
gether  on  their  return  from  a  day  in  the  country — an 
outing — the  memory  of  which  would  last  as  long  as 
reason  itself.  Oh!  those  pure  delights — how  innocent, 
how  delicious  they  had  been.  What  had  she  done,  what 
sin  had  she  been  guilty  of,  that  all  chance,  all  hope  of  a 
repetition  of  them  should  have  disappeared,  and  left  her 
still  young  and  still  hungering,  for  the  joys,  the  consola 
tion,  she  had  known  and  lost?  Poor  soul! — it  was  heart 
rending  to  read  the  word  despair  written  in  her  eyes, 
and  to  see  her  with  her  cheeks  flushed,  her  lips  dry  and 
feverish,  and  her  hands  trembling,  as  she  persistently 
wandered  from  one  object  to  another.  A  little  painted 
miniature  of  Hernani,  when  but  twenty  years  of  age,  was 
discovered  in  an  out-of-the-way  corner  where  it  had 
been  placed  to  make  room  for  newer  treasures — this  was 
the  last  thing  she  pounced  upon  and  forced  into  her 
pocket. 

Compelled  to  go  at  length,  she  announced  that  she 
was  ready,  and  when  the  moon  was  riding  high  and  clear 


2C>6  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

above  them,  they  crossed  the  terraced  walks  where  the 
flowers  had  been  so  bright  in  the  spring  and  summer, 
and  lingering  an  instant  near  the  fountain  where  the 
gold-fish  had  sported,  they  then  passed  on  beneath  the 
boughs  of  the  cedars,  together  and  in  silence. 

While  the  key  was  being  fitted  in  the  door  which  ad 
mitted  them  to  Nikolay  Brauman's  premises,  Sara 
glanced  back,  then  swiftly  into  Hernani's  face. 

"We  shall  sleep  in  the  old  home  no  more,  Kasimir?" 
she  whispered  softly. 

Hernani  bowed  his  head.    She  was  right. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  2O/ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

That  night,  that  historical  night  of  the  I4th  of  Jan 
uary,  1863,  the  police  fulfilled  their  instructions.  The 
youth  of  Warsaw — to  the  number  of  two  thousand,  it  is 
said — went  to  swell  the  Russian  ranks,  and  the  new  day 
dawned  upon  what  appeared  to  be  a  triumph  of  minis 
terial  policy.  The  attitude  of  the  Government  had  been 
resolute.  In  spite  of  threats,  it  had  carried  its  point. 
It  had  conquered;  yet  could  the  official  eyes  have  pene 
trated  to  where  the  wheels  of  the  revolutionary  machine 
worked  swiftly  and  well,  enough  would  have  been  seen 
to  occasion  distrust,  even  alarm. 

Never  having  once  closed  his  eyes,  the  pale  beams  of 
that  morning  found  Hernani  patiently  at  work.  He  and 
Dorozynski  had  returned  to  the  house  as  agreed,  and 
though  the  latter  had  done  little  beyond  consuming  a 
quantity  of  cigarettes,  he  had  been  the  silent  witness 
of  a  vast  expenditure  of  methodical  labor. 

Early  on  the  previous  evening,  Hernani  had  arranged 
for  the  attendance  of  an  old  and  trusted  official,  and 
since  for  so  long  he  had  been  steadily  preparing  for  the 
worst  that  could  befall  him,  his  actions  fitted  like  the 
parts  of  a  puzzle.  The  doors  of  the  bank  were  to  be  kept 
open,  and  the  business  to  be  conducted  as  usual,  though 
a  smaller  staff  was  to  be  maintained;  while,  so  far  as  the 
internal  working  of  the  establishment  was  concerned, 
Hernani  appointed  this  little,  round-shouldered,  wizened, 
though  trustworthy  official,  in  all  things  his  deputy. 

Thus  having  set  his  house  in  order  so  far  as  in  him  lay, 
when  the  mist  was  clearing  and  the  white  and  azure  dap 
pling  of  the  sky  was  becoming  tinted  and  streaked  with 
gold,  amidst  the  twittering  of  the  sparrows,  and  the 


208  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

steady  drip,  drip  of  the  melting  frost,  pattering  in  crystal 
drops  from  the  flat  and  funereal  branches  of  the  cedar 
trees,  he  turned  his  back  upon  his  luxurious,  almost 
princely  home,  and  with  a  heavy  heart,  and  a  min-l 
harassed  with  care,  sought  the  shelter  extended  to  him 
by  Nikolay  Brauman.  To  the  Count,  who  was  by  his 
side,  he  made  but  one  remark  by  the  way. 

"So  the  police  have  not  troubled  us  after  all.  Do  they 
know  where  to  find  us,  and  so  are  they  strong  in  their 
silence?  It  disturbs  me — we  must  make  another  move, 
I  think." 

And  worn  out  for  once,  he  went  away  to  take  a  little 
rest. 

It  was  Nikolay  Brauman  himself  who  was  the  first  to 
rouse  him  from  a  deep  and  unrefreshing  slumber,  and  to 
cause  him  to  start  up  with  blood-shot  eyes,  while  he  told 
the  tale  of  the  unresisted,  bloodless  Conscription.  Her- 
nani  stretched  himself,  and  greatly  disturbed,  got  up; 
then  for  the  remainder  of  that  day,  and  for  two  more,  he 
was  in  the  city  alone.  He  had  assumed  a  clever  disguise, 
at  which  the  very  chiefs  of  the  revolutionary  party,  with 
whom  he  was  closeted,  laughed,  being  unable  to  recog 
nize  him  but  for  his  voice. 

Upon  his  return,  he  poured  startling  news  into  Doro- 
zynski's  ears. 

"I  have  seen  my  friend  of  the  garden,"  he  said — "the 
man  who  stopped  me  in  the  Saksonski  Sad,  as  I  told  you. 
He — with  a  party  of  detectives — has  been  on  our  track. 
Ah!  he  has  been  useful,  and  in  the  future  I  count  upon 
some  services  from  him.  The  Holy  One — blessed  be 
He! — has  sent  me  such  a  friend  at  such  a  moment,  other 
wise  I  tremble  to  think  what  would  have  happened.  Now 
tell  me — what  of  our  two  doves,  my  wife  and  your  sis 
ter — do  they  bear  up  well?  They  say  so,  of  course,  but 
you,  who  have  been  with  them  and  have  no  doubt  ob 
served  them — you  will  know." 

"You  need  trouble  nothing  about  them.       They  suf- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  2CK) 

fer,  but  no  more  than  they  must,  and  they  are  strong  and 
full  of  courage.  Your  constant  messages  reassured  us 
all." 

"Good!  Now  let  us  smoke,  and  let  me  tell  you  all  I 
have  done,  and  all  that  is  to  follow.  As  I  warned  you, 
the  action  of  the  Government  in  the  matter  of  this  Con 
scription  has  set  the  match  to  the  fire;  within  the  space 
of  this  week  the  country  will  be  in  a  blaze.  Nikolay 
Brauman,  my  friend — we  may  speak  without  reserve — 
no  one  will  hear  us?" 

Nikolay  Brauman  assented. 

"Very  well;  our  foes  not  being  prepared,  and  not  be 
lieving  in  their  hearts  that  we  have  the  courage  to  fight, 
it  has  been  decided  at  a  meeting — held  now  many  hours 
ago — to  take  the  great  step  on  the  22nd  of  this  month. 
Our  couriers  are  already  scouring  the  kingdom,  and  on 
that  day  the  people  will  rise  en  masse — Poland  will  be  in 
arms — and  then,  as  you  will  see,  France  will  come  to  our 
assistance." 

"Ah!  if  we  could  but  count  upon  that,"  exclaimed 
Dorozynski. 

"In  any  case,  it  is  certain  that  we  can  count  upon  our 
selves."  answered  Hernani;  "but  hear  me  out.  I  am  full 
of  news,  good  and  healthy  for  the  cause.  Every  Rus 
sian  garrison  throughout  the  land  is  to  be  attacked  at 
midnight  on  the  date  mentioned.  Already  there  are 
bodies  of  armed  men  moving  in  the  woods  on  both  banks 
of  the  Vistula,  and  I  am  in  receipt  of  special  information 
as  to  their  numbers  and  condition." 

The  Count  rubbed  his  hands. 

"By  heaven,  this  looks  like  business!  We  are  really 
about  to  do  something,"  he  exclaimed,  with  an  almost 
comical  expression  of  satisfaction. 

"You  are  right,  my  friend,  and  to-morrow  night  we 
begin,  we  take  the  step.  By  nine  o'clock,  since  it  is  so 
dark,  we  shall  have  crossed  the  river,  and  if  the  roads 
permit,  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning  we  shall  have 

14 


210  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

met  and  mustered,  five  hundred  strong.  Each  man  has 
been  warned  by  me,  and  I  think  none  will  fail.'' 

"But  why  was  I  left  idling  here  while  such  work  was 
going  on?"  grumbled  the  Count. 

"Because  I  judged  it  wise.  Oh,  you  need  not  mind. 
No  slight  was  intended.  When  we  are  in  the  field  we 
shall  depend  upon  you.  What  should  I  have  done  with 
out  you,  since  you  have  kept  the  women  in  good  heart?" 

The  Count's  face  cleared.  His  generous  nature  was 
free  from  the  taint  of  sulkiness. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said;  "but  what  instructions  did 
you  give  the  men?  The  greatest  care  should  be  taken  to 
get  clear  of  the  town  without  attracting  attention,  other 
wise  numbers  of  them  may  be  arrested  on  suspicion/' 

"Of  course  I  thought  of  that — it  was  one  of  my  first 
fears.  They  are  to  proceed  singly  or  in  parties  of  two 
and  three,  riding  or  on  foot,  at  any  hour  of  the  day  they 
may  choose,  but  no  arms  are  to  be  carried,  and  their 
dress  is  to  be  their  everyday  attire.  Now  congratulate 
me;  there  should  be  no  hitch." 

"With  all  my  heart.  No — none  should  occur  so  far  as 
one  can  see." 

"We  have  a  strong  body  of  men,  plenty  of  food,  and  a 
fair  supply  of  arms  and  ammunition." 

"But  is  there  to  be  no  attack  upon  the  Citadel?"  the 
Count  exclaimed  all  at  once,  in  tones  of  surprise,  as 
though  the  thought  had  but  just  struck  him. 

"None  is  planned'  as  yet.  We  are  said  to  be  too  weak." 

"Then  we  begin  by  abandoning  the  key  to  the  situa 
tion?" 

"So  I  urged,  but  my  representations  were  ignored." 

"It  should  have  been  attempted,  to  my  mind.  A  rush 
should  have  been  made.  Look  at  the  gain — the  prize 
was  a  rich  one."  And  the  two  men  continued  talking, 
with  old  Nikolay  Brauman  for  an  attentive  listener. 

The  few  hours  which  remained  before  quitting  the  city, 
were  entered  upon  by  Hernani,  in  a  spirit  of  feverish 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  211 

excitement.  He  dreaded'  the  police;  their  methods  of 
dealing  were,  lie  knew,  so  subtle.  Never  in  his  life  had 
he  felt  so  anxious.  He  could  abandon  his  business  and 
his  home,  he  could  risk  the  confiscation  of  the  bulk  of 
his  wealth  with  the  calm  deliberation  of  a  man  who  be 
lieves  in  himself,  having  learned  to  fight  the  world;  but 
when  it  came  to  the  thought  of  his  little  one,  his  wife,  in 
jeopardy — her  safety,  her  very  existence  threatened — 
his  legs  felt  weak,  his  head  spun  round',  and  he  tottered 
as  beneath  a  weight  too  heavy  for  him.  Perhaps  the  limbs 
of  the  law  would  move  with  machine-like  precision  and 
rapidity  at  the  last  moment — on  quitting  Brauman's 
house,  or  on  stepping  into  a  droshky;  on  the  way  to  the 
river,  or  when  about  to  cross  it.  Now  that  his  plans 
were  made,  his  business  complete,  he  could  not  bear  her 
out  of  his  sight.  He  caught  himself  eyeing  her  with 
melancholy  tenderness,  making  up  his  mind  to  part  from 
her,  as  it  were,  since  at  times,  the  disaster  overshadowing 
them  seemed  as  black  as  a  thunder-cloud  on  the  point 
of  bursting.  He  was  affected  by  fits  of  hilarity  and  con 
fidence,  depression  and  fear.  Like  a  child  he  would  start 
up  and  peer  out  of  the  windows,  or  stand  still  and  listen 
for  sign  or  sound,  of  the  ubiquitous,  iron-handed  func 
tionaries  of  the  law.  As  for  the  time,  it  seemed  as  though 
the  hours  refused  to  pass.  He  examined  his  watch,  tug 
ged  unconsciously  at  his  moustache,  thrust  his  long  thin 
fingers  through  his  dark  wavy  hair,  and  was  incapable 
of  remaining  seated  for  more  than  a  few  minutes.  The 
chiefs  of  the  Central  Committee,  remembering  his  vast 
\vealth,  and  consequent  importance,  favored  him  with 
long  and  inspiriting  messages,  to  which  he  paid  little  or 
no  heed.  To  such  a  pitch  of  distress  was  he  reduced  by 
li is  affection  for  this  woman,  whom  in  his  darkest  and 
most  jealous  moments  he  still  believed  to  be  untrue  to 
him,  that  old  Brauman's  sons  spoke  of  him  as  a  bear,  and 
even  went  so  far  as  to  touch  their  foreheads  significantly, 
thereby  indicating  to  each  other  that  perhaps  he  was  a 


212  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

little  mad.  Of  the  men  about  him,  the  Count  alone 
pitied  him,  knowing  the  exact  condition  of  affairs;  and 
Hernani,  who  occasionally  encountered  and  understood 
his  sympathetic  glances,  said  to  him,  more  than  once,  as 
though  ashamed  of  his  weakness — 

"I  shall  be  all  right  when  we  are  clear  of  the  place. 
Ah!  my  friend,  there  is  no  need  to  tell  you."  And  he 
smoked  and  paced  about  the  room,  this  old  tried  traveler, 
this  man  of  iron  will  and  approved  courage,  in  an  ap 
parently  inconsolable  frame  of  mind — waiting — forced  to 
wait;  the  unendurable  suspense  killing  him. 

Sara  and  Deotima,  too,  for  that  matter,  were  carrying 
their  separate  loads  of  anxiety,  but  then,  being  women, 
they  bore  them  more  patiently. 


HKRNANI   THE  JEW.  213 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Shut  up  within  his  palace,  protected  from  cold  and  dis 
comfort  by  stout  walls  and  innumerable  luxuries,  Hour- 
ko  found  himself  alternately  gratified  and  perplexed. 
Wielopolski's  coup  d'etat,  the  attempting  of  which  he 
had  strenuously  opposed',  had  deprived  him  of  excitement 
on  the  one  hand,  while  supplying  it  on  the  other. 

If  the  sons  of  the  leading  citizens  of  the  town  could  be 
arrested  in  their  beds  and  in  the  streets,  and  tranquillity 
be  maintained,  then  obviously  the  Marquis  Wielopolski 
was  right  and  there  would  be  no  revolution  or  rebellion 
of  any  kind.  And  that  was  well,  so  far;  still,  there  would 
be  no  fighting,  nothing  out  of  which  to  obtain  kudos — 
and  he  loved  fighting  and  kudos,  and  he  hated  the  Poles ; 
besides,  if  there  were  to  be  no  disturbances,  what  was  to 
become  of  his  long-cherished  passion  for  the  Jewess — 
the  adorable  Sara — which,  if  controlled  or  laid  aside  tem 
porarily  owing  to  his  wound  and  to  absorbing  demands 
made  upon  him,  was  by  no  means  abandoned.  As  he 
had  considered  all  along,  with  the  whole  kingdom  in 
arms,  and  Warsaw  in  a  state  of  uproar  and  confusion,  the 
wife  of  a  traitor  and  Jew  might  have  been  easily  account 
ed  for,  but,  with  the  loom  of  tranquillity  and  the  growing 
prospect  of  it,  the  realization  of  his  desires  might  be  dif 
ficult,  in  fact  unattainable.  For  obvious  reasons  he  had 
not  the  smallest  intention  of  using  the  criminous  docu 
ment,  the  possession  of  which  had  so  alarmed  Sara  and 
influenced  Hernani.  Sara,  surrendered  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  law,  would  be  Sara  out  of  his  reach,  lost  to 
him  in  fact.  The  idea  that  she  was  virtuous  occasionally 
forced  itself  upon  him,  and  dimly,  deep  in  his  heart,  he 
felt  himself  capable  of  respecting  such  an  admirable  qual 
ity,  though  the  teaching  and  experience  of  his  whole  life 


214  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

was  opposed  to  a  belief  in  its  existence.  Whatever  the 
temporary  direction  of  his  thoughts,  however,  upon  all 
such  points  as  concerned  her,  he  invariably  returned  to 
the  main  one — his  decision,  fixed  and  unalterable,  to  have 
her  within  his  power,  hazard  and  trouble  to  be  unconsid- 
ered  trifles.  So,  though  slowly,  having  so  many  dis 
tractions,  his  wits  were  at  work,  shaping  out  this  problem 
he  had  set  himself. 

In  another  wing  of  the  palace,  that  is  to  say,  in  one 
of  the  suite  of  rooms  Madam  Hourko  appropriated  to 
herself,  a  short  scene  was  in  progress,  which  would  have 
occasioned  the  gallant  Ivan  Nicholaevitch  no  small 
amount  of  additional  perplexity  and  also  some  surprise. 
Olga  Pavlovna  sat  palpitating  and  furious,  while  before 
her  stood  Popoloff,  cringing  and  crestfallen. 

"So  again  this  woman  has  slipped  through  our  fingers, 
and  again  you  have  failed  me!"  she  well-nigh  screamed, 
in  her  thin,  irritable  voice. 

"Do  but  hear  me,  madam,"  whined  Titus,  shuffling  his 
feet,  and  unconsciously  cracking  the  knuckles  of  his  long 
bony  fingers,  in  his  evident  distress — "do  but  believe  me, 
when  I  assure  you  that  to  have  done  the  thing  would 
have  been  madness,  and  upon  my  head  your  censure 
must  have  fallen.  Well  was  it  that  the  house  was  empty, 
or  what  an  uproar  would  have  followed." 

"Silence,  sir,"  Olga  retorted — "you  were  only  born  to 
obey!" 

"Let  me  beg,  let  me  remind  you  that  the  Jew  is  a  great 
man  in  his  own  way,  being  rich  beyond  count ;  how  then 
could  this  woman  be  seized  without  inquiries  resulting? 
A  little  patience,  a  little  waiting  would  be  well ;  still,  if  you 
desire  it,  a  commotion  being  nothing,  we  may  have  her 
yet.  The  tricks  of  the  town  are  well  known  to  the  men 
I  employ.  She  can  be  caught — oh!  yes;  there  can  be  lit 
tle  doubt  of  that.  I  think  I  could  go  near  to  where  she 
is  in  hiding  at  this  very  moment." 

"You  could?     Then  how  can  vou  lose  time?" 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  215 

"But,  madam,  I  have  despatched  the  detectives.  To 
night  they  will  make  their  report  to  me." 

"Oh!  these  delays — these  delays." 

"Madam,  there  must  be  reasonable  ones." 

"But  they  are  maddening.  Did  you  bribe  the  men 
sufficiently?" 

"Yes — with  a  due  attention  to  reason." 

"But  there  is  no  reason  in  the  matter.  I  may  be  alto 
gether  unreasonable  in  my  hatred  of  this  woman,  since 
but  for  her  I  might  be  forced  to  hate  another.  That  does 
not  matter.  I  hate  her.  See — take  these  rubles;  spend 
them ;  scour  the  town,  every  hole  and  corner  of  it,  but  let 
me  know  that  she  is  under  lock  and  key.  That  is  all  I 
ask  of  you." 

"It  shall  be  done,  madam." 

"Promptly  and  well?" 

Popoloff  smiled  sarcastically. 

"Madam,  the  detectives  I  have  employed  may  be  reck 
oned  on." 

"And  you  will  let  me  know  the  result  on  the  instant?" 

"The  instant  I  know  it,  madam." 

"One  moment — there  is  one  thing  more  I  have  to  say 
to  you.  Should'  you  fail — I  may  as  well  tell  you  frankly 
— you  may  count  upon  me  as  your  worst  enemy." 

Popoloff  ventured  no  answer;  he  merely  bowed  and 
shuffled  out  of  the  room,  muttering  to  himself — 

"Of  what  use  to  reason,  to  point  out  that  the  time  is 
not  ripe !  Reasoning  with  a  woman  in  love,  is  like  talk 
ing  to  a  mad  dog." 

Later  still,  that  day,  it  might  have  been  said  that  he 
was  employing  his  own  wits  oddly,  since  he  was  myste 
riously  engaged  with  members  of  the  Central  Commit 
tee,  in  return  for  what  he  would  have  described  as  a 
"sufficient  sum  of  money." 


2l6  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

At  length,  for  Hernani,  the  supreme  moment  had  ar 
rived.  With  a  view  to  attract  less  attention,  the  Count 
and  Deotima  had  gone  on  ahead  in  a  sauki,*  intending  to 
proceed  over  the  Praga  Bridge  to  the  rendezvous,  which 
was  to  be  at  a  given  point  on  the  river  bank. 

All  that  remained  to  be  done  was  to  bid  farewell  to  old 
Nikolay  Brauman,  and  step  into  the  street  accompanied 
by  Riva.  Hernani's  disguise  was  perfect,  a  long  thick 
beard  adding  twenty  years  to  his  age;  as  for  Sara,  she 
was  muffled  up  past  all  recognition.  The  door  of  the  old 
Jew's  house  closed  behind  them  as  they  descended  the 
steps.  A  sauki  came  up  in  search  of  a  fare,  they  engaged 
it,  seated  themselves,  and  in  perfect  Russian,  Hernani 
gave  his  instructions.  They  were  off.  Sara's  pulses 
beat  wildly,  and  her  beautiful  eyes,  appearing  black  nou 
that  the  pupils  were  dilated,  flashed  anxious  glances  on 
all  sides.  Would  they  be  stopped?  What  would  hap 
pen?  Every  dusky  figure  approaching  in  shuba,  mili 
tary  great-coat  or  other  attire,  was  assuredly  a  foe  to  be 
reckoned  with,  and  when  at  a  breakneck  speed  their 
driver  swept  them  round  a  turning,  almost  into  the  cen 
ter  of  a  group  of  mounted  Cossacks,  her  distress  was 
complete.  She  uttered  a  nervous  stifled  cry.  Surely 
they  were  lost?  Leaning  back  in  his  seat,  his  broad 
shoulders  expanded,  a  couple  of  loaded  revolvers  in  his 
pockets  and  a  good  cigar  between  his  teeth,  Hernani  ap 
peared  at  his  ease.  His  utterances  were  monosyllabic. 
and  he  contented  himself  with  firmly  gripping  Sara's 
arm  at  the  moment  when  he  heard  her  weak  expression 
of  fear:  otherwise  he  sat  motionless.  In  this  way  thev 


*  Small   sledge. 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  217 

swung  round  the  angles  of  the  streets,  miraculously,  it 
seemed,  escaping  collision  with  other  vehicles,  until,  with 
a  jerk  which  threw  the  horses  on  their  haunches,  they  at 
length  drew  rein  within  a  few  paces  of  the  river.  The 
little  passage  over  the  ice  was  nothing,  and  there  in  the 
gloom,  awaiting  their  coming,  were  the  Count  and  Deo- 
tima,  while  close  at  hand  was  a  sani*  and  pair,  and  a 
couple  of  saddle-horses.  A  few  remarks  exchanged, 
even  a  joke  thrown  in,  and  they  were  off  again,  Hernani 
and  the  Count  riding,  the  two  women  tucked  up  warmly 
in  the  sledge;  above  all  things,  Warsaw  was  behind  them, 
and  the  open  country  and  the  woods  ahead. 

Throughout  that  drive  the  sensation  was  strong  upon 
Sara  that  she  was  entering  upon  a  new  life.  She  expe 
rienced  a  feeling  of  sleepy  contentment  as  the  horses  tore 
along  and  the  sledge  labored  and  creaked.  Now  and 
again  they  rumbled  and  oscillated  over  a  bridge  of  pine 
trunks,  the  interstices  of  which  were  stuffed  with  branch 
es  and  soil,  pounded  and  moistened  by  exposure  and 
usage  to  the  consistency  of  clay.  When  she  looked  out 
she  could  see  nothing  but  the  dim  outline  of  a  white- 
walled  cottage,  a  fence,  or  the  straight  dark  stems  of  trees 
disappearing  into  interminable  gloom,  and  this,  thanks 
alone  to  the  side  lamps,  athwart  the  light  from  which, 
the  rapid  breathing  of  the  horses  struck  in  pointed  shafts 
of  vapor. 

Hernani  and  the  Count  rode  ahead  or  in  the  rear,  the 
road  being  for  the  most  part  too  narrow  for  them  to  keep 
abreast  of  the  sledge,  and  she  occasionally  caught  herself 
judging  of  their  position  by  the  dull  rhythmic  thud  of 
their  horses'  hoofs.  These  monotonous  sounds  created  by 
this  passage  through  the  silence  of  the  night,  succeeding 
the  protracted  anxiety  and  nervous  strain  to  which  she 
had  for  so  long  been  subjected,  caused  Sara  to  sink  at 
length  into  a  deep  and  placid  sleep,  during  which  Deo- 


*  Large  sledge. 


2l8  HERN  AN  I  THE  JEW. 

tima  remained  awake  without  attempting  to  speak,  the 
Count  and'  Hernani  scarcely  exchanging  a  word,  except 
of  advice  or  caution. 

And  so  they  journeyed  on,  hour  after  hour,  through 
dense  woods  and  occasional  open  spaces,  until,  as  in  a 
dream,  Sara  was  conscious  of  alighting  and  entering  a 
long  low  house  with  a  wooden  porch,  of  receiving  the 
kindest  welcome  and  some  much  needed  refreshment, 
and  then,  still  in  a  pleasantly  tired  and  happy  state,  of  hur 
rying  into  bed,  thankful  to  rid  herself  of  her  clothes  and 
nestle  beneath  the  cool  soft  sheets,  with  the  abandon  of  a 
child  who  is  weary  and  wishes  but  to  stretch  its  limbs. 

In  the  morning,  she  was  awakened  by  the  muffled 
noises  made  by  people  moving  and  busying^  themselves 
within  and  without  the  house.  As  she  lay  on  her  back 
wondering  where  she  was,  and  yawned  and  stretched  her 
soft  round  arms  above  her  head,  slowly  she  became  con 
scious  of  the  cheering  and  appetizing  sounds  and  scents 
of  a  country  house.  She,  who  in  her  heart  loved  such 
simple  things,  discovered  that  the  air  wras  fresher  and 
purer,  and  that  stored  herbs  and  fruits,  such  as  apples 
and  pears  and  preserves,  mingled  their  perfume  with  the 
more  subtle  fragrance  of  wood  smoke,  hay,  and  an  oc 
casional  puff  of  a  stronger  odor,  caused  by  the  presence 
of  cattle  and  the  roots  necessary  to  them.  Gradually  be 
coming  more  alive  to  sounds,  she  distinguished  the  low, 
monotonous,  but  soothing  coo-coo  of  wood-pigeons,  the 
twitter  of  sparrows  and  linnets,  and  the  more  prolonged 
and  agreeable  notes  of  mavis  and  blackbird.  With  a  lit 
tle  shudder  she  drew  her  arms  beneath  the  bed-clothes, 
which  she  collected  about  her  ears,  despite  the  increased 
cold,  taking  pleasure  in  moving  her  limbs  into  the  cool 
parts  of  the  bed,  vaguely  wondering  and  listening  still, 
but  dimly  conscious  that  she  breathed  and  was  refreshed. 
Finally,  in  response  to  the  dull  rumble  of  wagons,  some 
shouts  rising  above  the  hum  of  many  voices,  the  crack 
of  a  rifle  and  an  occasional  command  in  sharp  decisive 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  219 

tones,  she  flung  the  bed-clothes  aside,  hung  her  little  feet 
over  the  edge  of  the  bed  momentarily,  then  boldly  step 
ped  across  the  floor  and  cautiously  raised  the  milk-white 
linen  blind.  The  sight  she  beheld  enabled  her  instantly 
to  appreciate  her  position. 

Before  her  lay  a  drive  and  a  flower-garden,  separated 
from  an  orchard  but  thinly  planted  with  fruit  trees,  by  a 
rough  wooden  fence.  On  the  edge  of  this  orchard  a  long 
line  of  farm  buildings  appeared,  built  upon  a  scale  suit 
able  to  an  estate  of  several  thousand  acres,  situated  in  a 
country  where  the  climate  and  method  of  farming  neces 
sitated  a  great  storage  of  produce.  Upturned  carts, 
ploughs,  and  other  implements  of  husbandry,  were  to  be 
seen  mingled  with  all  the  litter  of  a  space,  where  through 
open  doors,  cows  were  standing  gently  swinging  their 
tails.  As  a  setting  to  this  scene,  as  well  as  a  serviceable 
protection  from  fierce  gales  of  wind,  imagine  the  dark 
brown  trunks  and  feathery  crests  of  an  apparently  in 
terminable  forest  of  pine  trees. 

A  fresh  fall  of  snow  had  occurred  over  night,  but  the 
dampness  of  it  was  totally  ignored  by  groups  of  men 
scattered  over  the  orchard  or  gathered  around  the  out 
buildings,  where  horses  were  being  groomed,  arms  and 
equipments  examined  and  cleaned,  the  arrival  and.  un 
loading  of  wagons  attended  to.  Occasionally,  rifles  were 
being  discharged  over  the  heads  of  young  animals,  with 
a  view  to  accustom  them  to  the  sound  of  firing;  this  pre 
cautionary  measure  being  carried  on  at  some  little  dis 
tance  to  the  right,  near  the  pine  wood,  on  the  fringe  of 
which  the  Count  might  be  discerned  instructing  a  little 
squad  of  men.  And  upon  the  whole  picture,  the  sun  was 
making  attacks  in  amber  shafts,  dispersing  the  mist  and 
flashing  light  upon  every  piece  of  shining  metal — bits, 
gun-barrels,  implements,  every  particle  of  snow,  ice,  and 
dripping  moisture. 

But  where  was  Hernani,  and  what  had  become  of  the 
usually  attentive  and  devoted'  Riva?  Why  had  they 


22O  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

allowed  her  to  sleep  so  late,  for  evidently  it  was  late?  It 
was  too  bad,  and  made  her  feel  desperately  guilty.  She 
should  have  been  up  and  doing  with  the  rest;  it  was 
disgusting,  lazy  of  her  at  such  a  time ;  and,  thinking  thus 
ill  of  herself,  she  was  in  the  midst  of  hurrying,  when  in 
reply  to  a  knock,  Deotima  had  to  be  admitted'.  And  the 
young  girl  came  in  looking  the  embodiment  of  health, 
her  lips  and  cheeks  ruddy  as  ever,  her  eyes  clear  and 
sparkling,  though  her  hands  were  somewhat  cold  and 
blue,  owing  to  the  low  temperature  of  the  water  in  which 
she  had  been  splashing  about.  But  it  was  easier  to  get 
Deotima  into  the  room  than  out  of  it,  brimful  as  she  was 
of  strange  news,  rumors,  positive  facts,  actual  occur 
rences;  for  already  she  had  been  out  and  about,  having 
run  down  to  explore,  like  a  child,  naturally  curious  and 
keenly  interested  in  a  new  place. 

Deliberately  seating  herself  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  her 
skirts  spread  out,  she  showed  rather  a  large  though  shape 
ly  foot  and'  ankle.  Then  she  began  to  talk.  Had  Sara  not 
enjoyed  the  long  drive?  To  her  it  had  been  delightfully 
swift  and  romantic;  and  what  a  complete  change  of  ex 
istence  it  had  brought  about.  Had  she  slept  well?  She 
looked  as  fresh  as  a  flower.  Oh,  yes;  she  would  let  her 
get  up  in  a  moment,  but  there  was  really  no  occasion  to 
hurry,  and  she  must  just  say  her  say  before  leaving  her 
in  peace.  Sara  rolled  the  bed-clothes  about  her  and  sat 
up,  clasping  her  knees,  listening  with  amused  good  na 
ture  and  interest  to  this  breathless  account;  and  Deoti 
ma  continued.  Several  sturdy  and  fine-looking  young 
fellows  who  had  not  been  expected,  had  already  dropped 
in  amongst  the  rest,  who  in  many  cases  were  really  well 
mounted  and  good  riders.  Andrew  had  expressed  him 
self  much  pleased  with  their  appearance.  Then  wagons 
were  rolling  up,  as  she  surely  must  have  heard,  filled 
with  hay  and  straw  and  any  amount  of  provisions,  so  that 
the  place  would  soon  be  converted  into  a  camp  on  a  large 
scale.  Their  host,  old'  Sicinski,  was  a  charming  patriot. 


HEKNANI  THE  JEW.  221 

ready  to  spend  his  last  shilling  for  the  cause,  and  his  two 
sons  were  most  civil  and  obliging — but  of  course  Sara 
had  seen  them.  Oh,  and  Andrew  had  promised  to 
further  her  instruction  with  a  rifle  and  revolver,  and — 
but  how  stupid  of  her — that  news  was  stale.  Very  well ; 
since  Sara  was  so  anxious  to  dress,  she  would  be  off  and 
would  not  forget  to  send  Riva,  whom  she  had  already 
encountered  downstairs ;  and  away  went  this  fine,  simple- 
minded  specimen  of  maidenhood,  in  such  spirits,  that 
Sara  scarcely  recognized  her.  Then  the  dressing  recom 
menced  more  soberly,  and  with  the  conviction  that  she 
was  hopelessly  behindhand. 

She  had  slept  well,  and  no  doubt  under  the  influence 
of  the  keen  frosty  air,  sweet  with  the  resinous  odor  of  the 
pine  woods,  her  thoughts  flew  swiftly.  She  became  con 
scious  of  freedom  from  gloom  and  anxiety.  It  was  as 
though  she  had  been  suddenly  relieved  of  a  heavy  incu 
bus  by  an  unseen  hand,  and,  surprised  at  this  lightness 
of  heart,  she  put  the  question  to  herself  more  than  once, 
"What  has  happened — what  has  happened?"  And  she 
actually  sat  down,  the  better  to  enable  her  to  analyze  her 
own  feelings.  "Why  do  I  feel  so  different?"  she  inquired. 
"I  am  like  a  new  being.  Let  me  think."  With  a  towel 
over  one  arm,  her  hair  escaping  over  her  shoulders,  she 
raised  the  ringers  of  her  left  hand  and  began  to  enumer 
ate  her  ideas ;  then,  after  a  while,  she  again  commenced 
her  toilet,  her  mind  still  at  work,  though  in  a  less  method 
ical  fashion.  For  instance,  that  snake  in  the  grass,  that 
little  fat  oily  pig,  Hermann  Bloch,  was  no  longer  near 
to  work  mischief.  Besides  that,  Hernani  must  have  a 
warm  corner  for  her  somewhere  in  his  heart,  and,  as  if  in 
support  of  this  idea,  had  she  not  surprised  him  in  the  act 
of  regarding  her  with  something  of  the  old  interest  and 
affection?  He  had  certainly  been  more  sympathetic  and 
tender  in  manner.  As  for  the  magnitude  of  the  step  they 
had  now  taken,  her  belief  in  him  was  prodigious,  abso 
lute.  Over  again  she  was  the  young  woman  who  had 


222  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

clung  to  him  in  the  old  Cracow  days,  wondering,  rever 
encing,  adoring.  No  matter  what  he  might  do,  he  would 
be  lucky.  Her  fears  had  been  groundless,  the  over 
whelming  obstacles  she  had  at  first  discerned  had  existed 
only  in  her  imagination.  The  cause  he  had  espoused 
would  assuredly  triumph — the  Russians  would  be  worst 
ed  and  forced  to  come  to  terms,  and  once  again  Poland 
would  be  free.  But  even  while  she  so  arranged  the  ter 
mination  of  this  death-struggle,  through  her  window  a 
spectacle  presented  itself  which  upset  her.  Out  there 
in  the  orchard,  a  tall,  slim  young  fellow7,  with  a  white 
face — one  of  the  new  recruits — was  being  shown  how  to 
hold  his  rifle.  She  recoiled  a  step.  What  material! 
Was  there  not  something  wrong,  something  worse  than 
a  forlorn  hope  about  this  revolutionary  effort?  There 
were  thousands  of  splendid  troops  in  and  around  War 
saw;  in  some  instances,  the  flower  of  the  Russian  army. 
She  had  seen  and  heard  them  march,  and  the  precision 
and  thunder  of  their  disciplined  steps,  rang  again  in  her 
ears.  A  sensation  of  emptiness,  even  sickness,  over 
came  her,  and  she  passed  her  hand  over  her  forehead  as 
though  to  disperse  such  unpleasant  reflections. 

"It  is  all  right.  He  knows,"  she  at  length  had  courage 
to  murmur,  and  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  as  though  to 
say,  "It  is  thus  I  banish  such  ideas." 

At  the  close  of  that  first  day  the  greatest  progress  had 
been  made.  To  begin  with,  more  than  the  number  of 
men  expected  had  joined,  and  these  had  been  questioned 
separately,  with  a  view  to  ascertain  their  special  capabili 
ties.  Quarters  for  the  whole  force  had  been  found  in  and 
around  the  farm-buildings,  which  in  case  of  attack  were 
to  be  defended  to  the  last.  The  thick  woods  in  rear  of 
the  position,  were  to  be  retreated  into,  only  in  case  of  ex 
treme  need.  The  best  mounted  and  most  trustworthy 
men  had  been  thrown  out  as  scouts,  having  received  in 
structions  how  to  act  in  case  of  emergency  from  the 
Count,  who  in  reality  was  in  command  of  rather  more 


223 

than  five  hundred  men,  in  good  health  and  in  the  best  of 
spirits. 

Word  had  been  received  from  Deotima's  cousins, 
Counts  Ladislaus  and  Adam  Goroski,  that  they  were 
joining  with  all  speed,  and  moreover,  not  single-handed. 
All  the  peasants  thus  far  encountered  had  proved  friend 
ly,  though  that,  it  was  thought,  might  be  due  to  the  in 
fluence  of  their  host  and  his  two  sons,  who,  jointly,  were 
the  proprietors  of  an  immense  stretch  of  land. 

Up  to  the  hour  at  which  they  sat  down  to  the  evening 
meal — a  sort  of  homely  tea — five-and-twenty  of  them  at  a 
long  table  which  extended  nearly  the  length  of  the  room, 
no  news  of  any  kind  had  been  received  from  Warsaw.  It 
was  not  yet  known  whether  the  Government  was  aware 
that  they  had  taken  up  arms,  and  Hernani  was  anxious 
that  the  fact  should  be  disguised  as  long  as  possible.  To 
be  let  alone  for  the  next  few  days  would  be  of  immense 
advantage,  he  urged.  Their  friends  would  have  time  to 
join  them — perhaps  one,  if  not  both,  of  the  two  bodies  of 
men  reported  to  be  within  twenty  miles,  would  come  in 
to  swell  their  ranks;  the  men  would  be  better  accustomed 
to  the  weapons  they  were  about  to  handle,  and,  more 
important  still,  the  result  of  the  grand  attempt  on  the 
22nd,  would  be  known — after  which  it  would  be  so  much 
easier  to  gauge  the  situation  accurately. 

The  appetites  of  all  these  people,  these  young  fellows 
met  together  for  so  desperate  a  purpose,  appeared  to  Sara 
to  be  really  enormous.  Some  of  them  had  never  been  a 
clay's  journey  from  home,  yet  they  were  laughing  and 
chaffing,  eating  and  drinking,  as  though  they  were  ac 
customed  to  such  work — behaving  like  veterans,  in  fact. 
She  caught  herself  wondering  whether  this  mirth  was  not 
too  loud  to  be  natural.  It  was  all  very  well,  but  what  a 
noise!  Beneath  the  surface  were  there  no  shadowy  mis 
givings  such  as  she  herself  had  been  troubled  with?  Un 
used  to  hardship  or  exposure  of  any  kind,  without  reck 
oning  the  enemy's  bullets,  a  great  many  of  them  would 


224  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

never  see  parents  or  home  again.  And  to  think  that 
Hernani  had  staked  life — everything — just  as  they  had. 
At  that  thought  she  must  have  looked  intensely  serious, 
for  Deotima,  who  had  been  watching  her,  could  not  help 
exclaiming — 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?7' 

Disturbed,  almost  startled,  Sara  could  make  no  other 
answer  than  a  very  commonplace  one,  which  was — 

"Oh,  nothing." " 

"But  the  expression  of  your  face  was  quite  tragic." 

Sara  shook  herself  and  with  affected  surprise  said — 

"No — really — did  I  look  so  disagreeable?  What  a 
mistake.  But  I  was  dreaming — that  was  all.'' 

"Are  you  feeling  well?"  inquired  Deotima  sympatheti 
cally;  and  Sara  declared  with  energy  that  she  was.  All 
the  same,  her  spirits  had  somewhat  evaporated,  Hernani 
being  in  a  measure  at  the  bottom  of  it.  He  had  not 
escaped  her  notice  through  the  day — in  fact,  when  it  had 
been  possible,  she  had'  spoken  to  him  and  had  been  de 
pressed  by  a  slight,  but  to  her  insignificant,  alteration  in 
his  manner  towards  her.  He  seemed  rather  to  avoid  her, 
she  imagined,  and  by  way  of  an  additional  annoyance, 
for  the  sake  of  space,  it  had  been  decided  that  she  and 
Deotima  should  occupy  one  room  together,  so  that  her 
much  cherished  desire  to  share  whatever  accommodation 
there  was  with  Hernani,  was  at  once  destroyed.  It  was 
irritating  in  the  extreme;  however,  having  decided  to 
make  the  best  of  everything,  she  laid  herself  out  to 
be  charming,  with  the  result  that  before  bedtime  she 
had  succeeded  in  winning  the  hearts  of  all  those  with 
whom  she  came  in  contact.  Last  thing  that  night  Riva 
joined  her  as  was  her  wont,  and  the  gossip  she  delighted 
in,  having  been  missed  latterly,  she  was  overflowing 
with  her  own  simple  ideas.  In  her  servant's  voice  she 
began  by  grumbling  at  their  change  of  quarters. 

"This  is  no  place  for  you,  my  lamb.    What  could  the 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  225 

master  be  thinking  of,  to  leave  a  beautiful  home  and  all 
the  comforts  of  it,  for  a  hole  like  this?" 

"You  don't  understand,  Riva,"  Sara  answered  gently. 

''Then  it's  no  fault  of  mine.  I  ask,  and  I  obey;  now, 
don't  I?  It's  Riva  do  this  and  that,  and  I'm  to  be  found 
trotting  about,  here,  there,  and'  everywhere,  always  on 
my  legs.  Tell  me — did  the  pan*  here  lose  his  wife? 
Pity  for  him;  a  house  without  a  woman  to  look  after  it 
is  no  better  than  a  pig-sty." 

"It  does  make  a  difference." 

"I  should  think  so  indeed." 

"But  you  are  well  treated,  Riva." 

"Oh,  as  for  that,  yes;  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of. 
But  the  place  is  going  to  ruin.  If  I  were  an  obyvatel,t 
with  land  by  the  mile  and  money  by  the  sack,  I'd  have 
my  ceilings  white  and  my  windows  and  walls  clean.  And 
those  great  strong  sons  of  his — what  do  they  do  all  day 
but  smoke,  smoke,  smoke." 

"Ah!  Riva;  you  are  in  the  wrong  mood  to  be 
pleased." 

"What  do  I  see  to  please  me,  my  lamb?" 

"Well,  make  the  best  of  it." 

"Oh,  as  for  that,  that's  all  right;  but  I  wish  we  were 
back  in  Warsaw  again." 

"Don't." 

"Why?" 

"Because  it  is  useless  to  wish  such  things." 

"Where  are  we  going,  then?  Shall  we  be  here  all 
through  the  cold?" 

"I  know  no  more  than  you  do,  Riva." 

"How  strange;   and  does  the  master?" 

"Not  as  yet.    A  day  or  two  may  decide." 

"And  you  will  tell  me?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  from  what  I  can  see  of  it,  there  is  no  rising 


*  Mr. — Sir — Owner.  tLanded  proprietor. 

15 


226  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

throughout  the  land.  Only  ourselves,  stuck  fast  in  the 
midst  of  woods.  If  the  great  Russian,  the  Governor, 
move  against  us  with  his  host,  may  the  God  of  Israel 
fight  for  us,  I  say — we  shall  need  him.'' 

"That  must  be  so  always.  But  He  is  on  our  side.  Our 
cause  is  a  righteous  one." 

"Yes,  that  is  so.  Well,  the  master  knows  what  he  is 
about,  I  suppose.  He  has  a  long  head,  and  fortune  pur 
sues  him.  Ach!  How  grand  he  looks  in  his  great-coat 
and  boots,  like  as  in  Cracow  when  he  came  to  us  through 
the  snow — eh,  my  lamb?" 

Sara  nodded  her  head  with  the  pleased  expression 
Riva  was  on  the  lookout  for. 

"Not  one  of  them  here  can  make  his  shadow."' 

Sara  fairly  blushed  and'  did  not  answer.  She  was  as 
simple  as  a  child  in  aught  that  concerned  Hernani,  and 
never  knew  what  to  say  when  his  praises  were  sung.  In 
her  eyes  he  had  no  faults.  All  this  Riva  knew,  but, 
shrewdly  judging  enough  to  be  as  good  as  a  feast,  she 
slid  on  to  another  topic. 

"Well,  have  caution  for  yourself,  my  lamb.  When  you 
are  out  of  my  sight,  what  is  to  be  done  if  you  are  not 
careful?  And  the  draughts  here  are  awful — think  of 
that!  Ah!  what  a  night  I  had — never  a  wink  of  sleep, 
what  with  the  ache  in  my  teeth  and  the  pain  in  my  shoul 
der.  Is  there  enough  on  the  bed — are  you  sure?  Ach! 
The  more  comfort  one  has,  the  more  one  wants.  There, 
now,  someone  is  coming.  For  the  life  of  me,  I  can  never 
get  you  to  myself."  And'  Riva  retreated  precipitately, 
just  as  Deotima  entered. 

Evidently  the  young  woman  did  not  share  Riva's  hor 
ror  of  cold  or  draughts,  for  her  first  act  was  to  make  for 
the  window,  which  she  flung  open. 

"What  a  relief  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air,  after  the 
heat  of  that  room  downstairs!"  she  exclaimed,  filling 
her  lungs  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction.  "Really  it  was  in 
sufferably  hot:  I  felt  like  fainting.  Come  and  have  a 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  227 

peep.  A  lot  of  them  have  decided  to  camp  out.  I  joked 
them  about  being  hot-house  plants — told  them  they 
would  catch  cold  if  a  leaf  stirred,  and  this  is  the  result. 
They  declared  they  had  tents  and  meant  to  use  them. 
Come;  it  looks  quite  pretty  in  the  light  of  the  huge  wood 
fires.  You  won't  catch  cold.  It  is  dry.  There  is  a  sharp 
frost." 

Sara  joined  her,  and  the  two  of  them  rested  their  arms 
on  the  window-sill.  A  sudden  thought  struck  Deotima. 

"Let  us  put  on  our  furs  and  go  out  for  a  few  min 
utes,"  she  said;  "the  house  is  not  shut  up  and  it  will  do 
us  good.'' 

Sara  objected.     It  was  late. 

"But  not  too  late,"  argued  the  girl;  "for  my  part,  I 
never  felt  less  like  sleeping — come." 

Sara  yielded — the  two  of  them  skipping  down  the 
staircase  as  though  they  were  escaping  for  some  fine 
fun.  In  spite  of  remonstrances  from  Riva,  who  had 
heard  them  and  begged  them  not  to  be  foolish,  they  fol 
lowed  the  curve  of  the  drive  as  it  wound  through  the 
garden  into  the  orchard,  Sara  firing  a  last  shot  at  Riva, 
who  stood  shivering  in  the  doorway. 

"You  stupid  old  thing — it  will  not  hurt  us.  We  shall 
be  back  in  a  moment." 

But  it  was  all  very  fine.  In  a  few  minutes  they  shiv 
ered,  the  keen  air  having  chilled  them. 

"Let  us  go  back;  Riva  was  right,"  said  Sara. 

"No,  no — come  on,"  urged  the  girl;  "I  cannot  sleep 
to-night.  Can  you  guess  why?" 

"Yes,  I  fancy  so." 

"Why,  then?" 

"It  is  the  great  night — the  22nd." 

"You  are  right,  and  I  shall  never  be  able  to  close  my 
eyes.  Think  of  what  will  be  happening  now  and  within 
an  hour.  It  is  already  past  eleven.  At  this  very  mo 
ment  they  will  be  stealing  to  the  places  of  meeting, 
avoiding  the  police  or  the  troops.  May  the  Blessed  Vir- 


228  HERN  AMI  THE  JEW. 

gin  watch  over  them  and  endow  them  with  strength — 
courage,  I  know  they  have.  The  old  and  infirm — the 
parents — will  be  praying  for  the  young  and  active — the 
children — who  will  be  arming,  and  in  their  hearts  pray 
ing  too.  Ought  not  we  to  pray — we  two — here,  with 
only  the  sky  between  us  and  God's  throne?  No  one 
will  see;  it  is  so  dark.  Let  us." 

And  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  whence  came  faint  noises 
of  the  night,  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  pine  tree,  which  cast 
its  drooping  branches  encrusted  with  frozen  snow  al 
most  over  them,  they  lifted  their  eyes  to  heaven,  and  as 
their  different  religions  prompted  them,  implored  the 
Divine  aid  for  Poland  and  her  sons.  Then,  in  a  silence 
which  both  felt  to  be  good  at  such  a  moment,  they  skirt 
ed  the  fringe  of  pines,  passing  near  the  watch-fires  rec 
ognized  and  unchallenged. 

Over  their  heads  not  a  star  was  to  be  seen,  mist  even 
floating  through  the  summits  of  the  loftiest  trees,  driven 
by  the  cool  wind.  Once  they  distinctly  heard,  far  up 
above  them,  the  measured  flap-flap  of  some  great  bird's 
wings,  as  in  mystic  solitude  and  impenetrable  gloom  it 
beat  its  trackless  course  southward.  And  the  same 
thought  occurred  to  both  at  the  same  moment — what 
strange  and  terrible  scenes  might  those  tireless  pinions 
hover  over! 

The  remainder  of  that  night  passed  away  in  peace, 
though  in  a  large  village  near  at  hand,  manifestations  of 
friendliness  to  the  Polish  cause  were  freely  indulged  in, 
much  to  the  wrath  of  the  Russian  burgomaster  and  tax- 
gatherer.  This  was  entirely  due  to  Hernani's  efforts, 
supplemented  by  the  orders  he  had  issued  to  cultivate 
the  goodwill  of  the  peasantry  and  to  pay  the  price  de 
manded  for  any  supplies  obtained. 

As  the  new  day  dawned,  the  thoughts  in  the  hearts  of 
all  were,  What  has  happened — when  shall  we  receive  in 
formation?  The  Count  had  advocated  an  attack  upon 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  229 

Siedlec  hours  previously,  to  which  Hernani  had  ob 
jected. 

"I  promised  to  come  here,  and  to  do  nothing  until  I 
received  instructions,"  he  had  answered.  "Let  us  act  as 
I  agreed;  it  will  be  for  the  best.'1  And  there  the  matter 
dropped. 

For  Sara  the  event  of  the  day  came  early.  There  were 
a  few  gleams  of  sunshine,  though  the  air  was  damp  ow 
ing  to  a  thaw,  and  she  and  Deotima  stood  in  the  wooden 
porch  sheltered  from  the  wind,  enjoying  the  feeble 
warmth  and  watching  the  puffs  of  blue  smoke  curling 
away  from  the  Minie  rifles,  as  the  men  in  their  simple 
gray  uniforms  practiced  at  a  mark.  Neither  of  them  had 
slept  well,  and  both  were  in  that  frame  of  mind,  when  to 
think  little,  is  as  great  a  relief  as  to  talk  little.  The  large 
rambling  house  of  one  story  in  height,  the  garden,  or 
chard  and  outbuildings  had  all  been  explored — even  the 
frozen  pond  which  supplied  fish  for  the  Lenten  fast,  had 
been  looked  at  and'  walked  round;  there  was  no  new 
sensation  to  be  got  by  a  further  exhibition  of  curiosity, 
and  since  there  was  no  immediate  cause  for  uneasiness, 
they  abandoned  themselves  to  a  momentary  sensation 
of  comfort,  blinking  there  in  the  sun,  dropping  mono 
syllabic  remarks  without  being  conscious  that  they 
opened  their  lips.  A  perpetual  hum  of  voices  came  from 
the  direction  of  the  outbuildings,  where  most  of  the  men 
were  assembled,  only  a  few  of  the  rawest  of  their  number 
being  out,  burning  the  powder  which  was  so  precious. 
So  there  were  the  bulk  of  them,  lolling  about,  amusing 
themselves,  smoking,  singing,  playing  cards,  telling  each 
other  how  the  Russians  were  to  be  made  short  work  of, 
while  only  those  who  thought  more  and  talked  less, 
washed,  hung  out  some  clothes,  mended  the  fires,  or 
groomed  their  horses. 

Amidst  this  jumblement  of  sounds,  came  the  clang  of 
the  iron  gate  at  the  bottom  of  the  drive,  the  latch  rattling 
as  it  swung  upon  its  hinges. 


HER  NAN!  THE  JEW. 

A  little  old  woman  with  a  basket  trudged  up  to  them. 
She  wished  to  see  Hernani.  For  what  purpose?  Oh! 
for  that  matter,  she  had  two  fowls,  plump  and  white,  and 
some  fresh  eggs.  She  wished  to  give  them  to  him,  and 
had  walked  some  three  miles  to  do  so.  Why?  Why? 
Because  he  had  been  the  salvation  of  her  son,  who  had 
been  lazy  and  given  to  drink.  He  had  found  work  for 
him  at  a  time  when  the  world  had  tired  of  him.  She 
knew  of  others  who  could  tell  the  same  story.  Yes,  it 
was  a  long  while  since — before  she  had  come  to  live  in 
that  part  of  the  country,  but  she  had  not  forgotten — she 
should  never  forget.  She  had  been  assured'  that  he  was 
close  at  hand,  and  she  had  come  to  see. 

Sara  turned  to  Deotima. 

''Take  her  to  him,"  was  all  she  could  say. 

Ah!  what  joy,  what  unspeakable  joy  to  hear  him 
spoken  of  with  such  affection,  to  know  that  he  was  be 
loved  as  well  as  respected.  No  wonder  that  she  loved 
him.  It  made  her  quiver  with  delight.  To  think  of  it-- 
in  the  country — miles  from  home — his  good  deeds  blos 
soming  in  such  a  fashion.  Then  she  remembered.  The 
woman  was  poorly  clad  and  it  was  cold.  She  was  only 
copying  him,  it  was  true,  but,  with  her  heart  throbbing, 
she  rushed  upstairs.  She  had  few  things  to  choose  from. 
but  there  was  a  shawl,  a  soft  woolen  one  which  would 
be  just  the  thing.  Riva  should  take  it.  Ah!  it  was  de 
licious  to  be  kind,  she  thought,  as  hidden  away  she 
stood  and  watched'  the  little  bent  figure  limping  along, 
looking  bigger  and  warmer  for  the  extra  wrap,  her 
empty  basket  hooked  upon  her  arm,  her  heart  evidently 
strengthened  by  the  treatment  she  had  received,  if  one 
might  judge  by  the  laughter  that  marked  her  passage 
through  the  ranks  of  the  well-meaning  young  patriots. 

For  a  little  while — and  for  the  first  time  for  years — 
Hernani  experienced  the  sensation  of  being  out  of  his 
element.  Count  Dorozynski  was  a  soldier  in  the  true 
sense  of  the  word,  that  is,  he  had  seen  active  service. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  231 

Hernani  was  a  traveled  civilian  of  large  experience,  a 
shrewd  business  man  and  born  financier,  but  he  could 
claim  to  be  no  more.  By  a  retrospective  bound,  which 
recalled  old  days  minutely,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he 
would  have  felt  more  at  home  amidst  the  wild  freedom 
of  an  Arab  encampment,  than  surrounded  by  the  disci 
pline  the  Count  did  his  best  to  enforce.  Amidst  the  rifle 
practice,  the  drilling,  the  exercises  of  various  kinds  by 
word  of  command,  he  was  forced  to  look  on  while  the 
Count  stepped  into  the  position  habitual  to  him  in  all 
he  undertook — that  of  chief.  Chief  he  was  to  many  of 
the  men,  his  own  employes  and  those  who  knew  him, 
and  chief  he  might  be  again  when  it  came  to  the  turmoil 
of  a  fight,  but  amongst  military  red-tapism  he  felt  out 
of  place.  It  was  only  by  degrees  that  this  feeling  passed 
and  he  began  to  make  headway  and  to  be  conscious  of 
it.  Possessing  the  rare  power  of  inspiring  others  with 
the  confidence  he  felt  in  himself,  he  had  only  to  throw 
his  whole  heart  and  soul  into  his  new  duties  to  make 
the  most  astonishing  strides  in  the  right  direction.  His 
practical,  penetrative  and  logical  mind,  was  so  capable 
of  grasping  and  advising  quickly  and  wisely,  that  even 
where  technical  knowledge  seemed  to  be  required,  his 
counsel  was  useful.  He  won  the  hearts  of  those  of  his 
following  to  whom  he  had  been  but  slightly  known,  and 
in  the  eyes  of  those  who  thought  they  knew  him  he  dis 
played  fresh  qualities.  It  was  as  though  he  had  started 
a  new  business,  which  at  the  outset  required'  every  mo 
ment  of  his  time  and  attention.  It  was  the  master  mind 
at  work  again.  Even  the  Count  was  not  prepared  for 
such  an  exhibition. 

"You  should  have  been  a  soldier!"  he  could  not  help 
exclaiming. 

As  for  the  men,  they  talked  amongst  themselves,  sift 
ing,  discussing,  measuring  him  accurately  and  assigning 
him  his  place  in  their  midst.  "Let  the  chief  alone;  he's 
all  right;  he's  got  a  head  on  his  shoulders,"  they  were 


232  HERNANI  THE  JEW 

in  the  habit  of  saying.  "To  see  him  shoot,  one  would 
think  he  had  been  born  to  the  business."  Then  they 
would  allude  to  his  wealth.  It  whetted  their  curiosity; 
it  awed  them.  How  much  had  he  got?  Ah!  that  was  a 
question.  One  thing  was  certain — a  man  with  so  much 
money  was  a  man  worth  respecting.  And  all  sorts  of 
fabulous  stories  were  circulated  about  him,  the  things 
he  had  done,  and  the  things  he  had  not  done  but  was 
credited  with,  when  added  together,  making  a  heavy 
total.  However,  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  was 
warm-hearted  and  generous,  as  well  as  enormously 
wealthy — that  he  had  traveled  everywhere  awhile  back, 
and  that  his  linguistic  attainments  were  unique.  Then, 
too,  there  was  his  wife — could  anyone  be  more  gentle 
and  charming,  or  quicker  with  a  kind  word  or  a  good 
act?  And  the  more  intelligent  added  that  at  times  she 
looked  thoughtful  and  sad,  an  expression,  they  contend 
ed,  which  softened  and  enhanced  her  surprising  beauty. 
A  button  sewed  on  by  her,  was  fingered  with  respect,  by 
the  soft-hearted  fellow  thus  favored.  A  few  simple  words 
falling  from  her  lips,  made  the  pulses  of  the  recipients 
flutter  with  pleasure.  And  was  it  to  be  wondered  at. 
when  to  her  beauty,  goodness  had  been  added,  and  to 
that,  affability,  an  irresistible  combination  with  which  to 
assault  poor  susceptible  humanity? 

So  these  two,  Sara  and  Hernani,  were  in  a  fair  way  to 
be  thought  much  of,  and  this  not  less  because  they  were 
both  unconscious  of  the  subtle  charm  of  their  own  indi 
viduality. 

At  length,  when  it  became  known  that  a  mounted 
courier  had  arrived  bringing  important  information, 
what  gossiping  began,  and  what  signs  of  excitement 
were  visible  upon  each  face;  what  conjectures  were  haz 
arded,  and  what  speculations  indulged  in!  Some  of  the 
poor  fellows  talked  of  getting  news  of  their  parents, 
though  how  it  was  to  come  to  them  was  not  quite  clear. 
It  was  true,  thev  had  onlv  been  absent  a  little  while: 


• 

HERNANI  THE  JEW.  233 

but  their  position  was  a  perilous  one,  and  they  were  un 
accustomed  to  being  out  of  sight  of  their  own  house 
tops. 

Actually  in  receipt  of  a  direct  communication  from  the 
Central  Committee,  Hernani  and  Dorozynski  proceeded 
to  discuss  it  with  closed  doors.  None  of  the  subordinate 
officers  they  had  appointed,  not  even  Counts  Ladislaus 
and  Adam  Goroski,  who  had  by  this  time  arrived,  were 
to  be  told  anything  until  they  had  carefully  decided  how 
much  to  tell. 

The  despatch  proved  to  be  a  lengthy  one  which  occa 
sioned  pleasure,  but  also  indicated  the  necessity  for 
energetic  action  in  the  near  future.  The  tale  it  told  was 
that  the  secret  of  the  rising  had  been  faithfully  main 
tained  to  the  last  moment,  with  the  result  that  it  had  been 
general  and  singularly  successful.  The  whole  country 
was  in  arms.  Isolated  bodies  of  Russian  troops  had 
been  overpowered,  their  weapons  and  ammunition 
seized,  the  military  chests  carried  off,  the  towns  and  vil 
lages  they  had  garrisoned  occupied.  The  peasantry  fa 
vored  the  cause,  and  were  arming  or  quietly  rendering 
every  assistance  while  appearing  in  the  villages  in  open- 
mouthed  innocence  and  apparent  inactivity.  Capable 
and  trustworthy  officers  were  spreading  themselves  over 
the  country  to  organize  and  lead  the  insurgent  bands 
forming  on  all  sides.  Furthermore,  it  suggested  that  a 
junction  should  be  effected  with  one,  if  not  both,  the 
other  insurgent  bodies  in  movement  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  Vistula,  and  it  added — and  this  was  the  alarming 
part  of  the  despatch — that  a  force  of  three  hundred  Rus 
sian  infantry  was  shortly  to  leave  Warsaw  for  the  pur 
pose  of  attacking  the  position  occupied  by  Hernani  and 
Count  Dorozynski.  Hernani  folded  up  the  paper,  then 
tossed  it  to  the  Count,  and  both  men  remained  silent  for 
some  minutes,  Hernani  twice  muttering  audibly,  "So 
they  are  coming,"  a  third  time  adding,  "Three  hundred 
of  them,  and  they  are  about  to  march.  Very  well,  my 


234  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

friend,  we  shall  meet  them — eh?  That  will  be  the  plan, 
and  there  are  some  nice  places  for  the  purpose  between 
here  and  Warsaw.  There  is  also  another  advantage  we 
shall  have  over  them:  we  know  them,  they  don't  know 
us.  We  understand  what  we  have  to  expect  from  disci 
plined  troops,  they  will  look  upon  us  as  a  rabble,  a  col 
lection  of  silly  ignorant  peasantry,  or  a  lot  of  townsmen 
who  for  fighting  purposes  are  no  better  than  babies. 
We  are  civilians,  and  regular  soldiers  turn  up  their  noses 
at  civilians.  They  will  come  strolling  along,  their  pipes 
in  their  mouths,  so  to  speak,  and  without  a  scout  thrown 
out,  and  we  shall  await  them  where  there  is  a  morass  and 
a  thick  wood  just  beyond.  You  remember  my  remark- 
as  we  passed  it?  That  will  be  the  plan,  eh?" 

The  Count  demurred.  What  would  be  the  use  of 
abandoning  their  strong  position?  What  if  the  enemy 
were  not  careless  and  felt  them  first,  then  encountered 
them  on  even  terms?  It  would  be  foolish.  No,  no!  the 
thing  would  be  to  remain  where  they  were.  But  they 
must  think.  The  situation  had  become  serious. 

"Ah!  But  you  don't  understand  me,"  retorted  Her- 
nani,  returning  to  the  charge.  "Abandon  this  position? 
On  no  account;  it  is  a  strong  one.  These  farm-build 
ings,  loop-holed,  the  rise  in  the  ground,  and  the  woods, 
not  too  close  in  our  rear,  will  suit  us  well." 

"That  is  my  opinion,"  agreed  the  Count. 

"But  this  is  mine,  my  friend,  and  you  will  forgive  me 
for  pressing  it  upon  you,  since  I  am  no  soldier.  Let  us 
divide  our  force.  With  a  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hun 
dred  men  we  will  waylay  these  Moskals,*  choosing 
ground  to  our  liking.  We  make  this  place  our  base,  and 
the  remainder  of  our  men  with  the  supplies  and  ammu 
nition  must  remain  here;  then,  if  the  worst  comes  to  the 
worst,  and  we  are  defeated,  we  can  make  a  final  stand 
upon  this  spot.'' 

*  Muscovites. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  235 

"Well,  we  must  think  it  over,"  conceded  the  Count, 
brightening  up. 

"But  we  must  be  prompt,"  urged  Hernani;  "every 
moment  is  precious;  at  such  a  time  there  is  much  to  be 
done." 

"The  scheme  has  its  good  points/'  mused  Dorozynski, 
lighting  a  cigarette  and  puffing  at  it  vigorously.  Then 
they  began  to  reason  and'  argue  afresh — they  could  not 
quite  agree — there  was  so  much  to  be  considered;  final 
ly,  after  a  long  discussion,  the  idea  was  practically  adopt 
ed.  Counts  Ladislaus  and  Adam  Goroski,  who  had 
joined  with  over  a  hundred  men,  were  to  remain  behind, 
Sara  and  Deotima  being  committed  to  their  charge. 
And  in  spite  of  all  Dorozynski's  representations  to  the 
contrary,  Hernani  insisted  upon  going.  What — it  was 
dangerous — and  there  was  no  need — and  he  was  wanted 
where  he  was.  That  might  be  true,  all  of  it,  but  he  had 
always  loved  danger,  and  time  back  had  gone  in  search 
of  it — danger  in  life  was  like  the  spice  in  a  pudding:  it 
flavored  it.  As  for  being  wanted — others  would'  fill  his 
place  very  well.  Sara  would  be  anxious — true,  he  was 
sorry  for  that — but  what  was  to  be  done? — she  must  get 
used  to  such  things.  Of  one  fact  there  could  be  no  doubt 
—he  must  go.  It  was,  he  felt,  his  duty.  So  the  neces 
sary  preparations  were  at  once  commenced;  the  taking 
of  the  step  itself  depending  upon  further  information  as 
to  the  movements  of  the  Russian  forces. 


236  HERNANI  THE  JEW 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

To  follow  the  course  of  events  accurately,  and  to  un 
derstand  enough  of  their  working,  the  inmates  of  the 
palace,  Titus  Popoloff  and  the  Governor-General,  Ivan 
Nicholaevitch,  must  be  glanced  at  quickly. 

The  apparent  intention  of  the  former,  which  was  to 
spirit  Sara  away,  had  been  upset  by  the  stranger's  desire 
to  serve  Hernani  (he  of  the  Saksonski  Sad*),  as  pre 
viously  related,  this  failure  of  course  having  its  direct 
effect  upon  the  General,  since  he  soon  knew  of  her  es 
cape;  also,  though  he  little  thought  it,  upon  madam, 
his  wife,  as  well. 

Having  given  no  fresh  orders,  but  having  trusted  to 
Popoloff's  watchfulness,  Hourko  was  distinctly  offended 
by  the  display  of  clumsiness,  of  which  he  considered  he 
had  been  guilty,  in  allowing  the  whole  brood — as  he 
thought  of  them — Sara,  Hernani  himself,  Count  Doro- 
zynski,  and  Deotima,  to  get  clear  away  from  the  city. 
His  faith  in  this  obsequious  servant,  latterly  on  the  wane, 
had  thus  drawn  closer  to  a  breakage.  The  matter  of 
Sara,  and  the  handling  of  it,  had  been  a  special  charge, 
a  delicate  trust  emanating  from  a  whim  of  his,  it  might 
be,  but  all  the  more  important  because  of  the  value  he 
chose  to  set  upon  it.  As  for  madam,  henceforth,  as  she 
had  said  of  herself,  she  was  Popoloff's  enemy.  So  that 
the  storm  that  personage  had  drawn  upon  himself,  part 
ly  by  his  lack  of  promptitude  and  partly  by  the  betrayal 
of  his  trust,  could  do  no  less  than  gather  until  it  burst. 
He  had  been  completely  outwitted,  so  it  seemed — how, 
he  appeared  not  to  know;  in  addition,  he  was  certainly 

*  Saxon  gardens. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  237 

fast  exhausting  all  his  resources  on  the  score  of  other 
irons  still  held  in  the  fire  -by  him.  That  was  the  posi 
tion. 

The  eventful  night  of  the  22nd  once  over,  with  a  space 
added  for  the  press  of  events  and  the  arrival  of  news,  and 
Hourko  was  able  to  find  time  to  order  the  step  alluded 
to  in  the  despatch  forwarded  to  Hernani  by  the  Central 
Committee.  Three  hundred  infantrymen,  commanded 
by  the  well-known  Major  Surofr,  were  directed  to  be  in 
readiness  to  cross  the  Vistula,  and  reduce  to  submission 
Hernani,  Count  Dorozynski,  and  the  insurgent  band 
under  their  joint  leadership;  such  instructions  being 
supplemented  by  orders  delivered  privately  to  Major 
Surofr,  which  were  as  follows: — 

The  Jew  Hernani,  and  the  Pole  known  as  Count  An 
drew  Dorozynski,  with  such  subordinates  as  might  be 
with  them,  were  to  be  captured  alive  if  possible,  but  with 
regard  to  the  two  women  known  to  be  in  their  follow 
ing,  the  wife  of  the  Jew  and  the  sister  of  the  Count,  no 
pains  were  to  be  spared  to  take  them  alive  and  un 
harmed.  This  order  accomplished,  Major  Suroff  was 
to  communicate,  and  await  instructions  wheresoever  he 
might  chance  to  find  himself. 


238  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

A  kind  of  pause  had  come  in  the  life  at  the  hastily- 
formed  camp.  So  thought  Sara.  A  pause  during  which 
it  seemed  that  she  had  grown  to  know  it  all,  and  that 
what  was  at  first  novel  and  interesting,  had  in  it  a  vein 
of  monotony.  When  relieved  of  extreme  doubt  on  the 
score  of  safety,  surely  it  should  have  been  pleasant 
enough  to  be  with  Hernani,  to  watch  his  tall  form,  to 
see  him  advising,  encouraging,  inspiring;  to  look  into 
his  face  when  the  chance  offered,  and  try  to  read  there 
all  that  she  would  have  had  him  tell  her.  And  yet  she 
was  not  at  ease,  not  as  she  had  felt  upon  that  one  morn 
ing,  her  first  one  there.  Ever  since  that  day  her  old 
feelings  had  steadily  caught  her  up  again,  returning  in 
force,  though  one  by  one.  The  notes  of  suspense, 
anxiety,  positive  dread,  sounded  loud  and  ever  louder 
in  her  ears.  In  her  weak  moments  she  felt  as  if  all  the 
preparation  and  practice,  the  drilling  and  maneuvering, 
could  not  avert  the  coming  of  the  crash,  though  by  such 
means  it  might  be  stayed  for  awhile.  Danger  was  grad 
ually  stalking  upon  them,  walling  them  in,  encircling 
them.  They  were  in  a  false  position.  Then,  too,  her 
mind  was  awry.  In  nothing  did  she  resemble  what  she 
wished  to  be.  A  constant  thought  with  her  was,  "What 
have  I  done?  What  am  I  doing?"  Even  when  condi 
tions  seemed  to  favor  her,  she  could  but  play  the  prosaic 
part  of  simple  housewife.  With  the  desire  so  strong  in 
her  to  do  something  heroic  as  well  as  useful,  something 
to  win  back  her  husband's  affection,  and  worth  ex 
changing  for  the  youth  which  was  passing  from  her,  the 
beauty  which  was  decaying,  she  could  discover  no  out 
let,  no  opening.  All  her  struggles  were  against  a  death 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  239 

in  life,  an  existence  in  which  individuality  dwindles  and 
becomes  lost  in  a  mere  nihility,  accepted  placidly  by  mil 
lions  of  wives. 

Conscious  of  vast  stores  of  energy  and  affection,  it  was 
becoming  a  daily  and  hourly  grievance  to  her  to  feel  that 
her  place  in  the  world  was  a  sinecure,  that  she  was  not 
useful,  not  necessary  to  anyone.  And  this  sensation 
strengthened,  because,  to  her  consternation,  Hernani's 
conduct  had — after  the  excitement  of  the  escape  from 
Warsaw — reverted  to  the  lines  with  which  she  was  so 
familiar.  He  was  amiable  and  polite,  even  attentive,  but 
never  by  any  chance  sympathetic  or  affectionate,  and  the 
hopes  she  had  entertained  of  the  possible  advantage  to 
be  derived  from  their  altered  fortunes,  were  disappear 
ing  fast.  With  indescribable  suffering  she  again  began 
to  understand  that  his  attitude  towards  her  was  an  in 
exorable  one.  Yet  she  was  fain  to  admit  to  herself — and 
she  hated  her  weakness — that  she  loved  him  with  a  love 
which  grew  rather  than  diminished,  as  might  have  been 
expected.  The  fact  that  he  did  not  pay  her  the  compli 
ment  of  confiding  in,  or  consulting  her  in  any  way,  was 
another  misfortune  which  made  her  feel  still  more  a 
cipher.  It  was  so  ignominious  to  receive  news  from  Riva, 
which  Riva  had  picked  up  second-hand  or  by  keeping 
her  ears  open.  And  to  be  thankful  for  that — how  hu 
miliating!  There  could  be  no  doubt,  she  considered, 
that  she  was  being  disgracefully  treated. 

So  the  morning  of  the  start  to  intercept  the  Russian 
advance,  suggested  by  Hernani  and  acceded  to  by  the 
Count,  found  her  in  an  unenviable  and  unhappy  frame  of 
mind,  though  apparently  cheerful  and  obliging. 

The  information  Hernani  had  waited  for  had  arrived, 
and  within  an  hour  or  so  from  the  receipt  of  it,  the  little 
force  was  drawn  up  under  arms,  each  man  having  vol 
unteered,  quarrels  even  having  taken  place  as  to  who 
should  go,  for  there  was  scarcely  one  who  was  not  eager 
for  the  adventure.  It  was  to  serve  their  country,  it 


240  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

would  put  an  end  to  staying  in  the  camp  talking,  and 
the  first  blood  would  be  drawn. 

Before  mounting  his  horse  Hernani  approached  Sara 
and  kissed  her  on  the  forehead.  The  others  were  stand 
ing  round — Deotima  and  Dorozynski,  the  two  brothers, 
Ladislaus  and  Adam  Goroski,  even  Riva  was  close  at 
hand.  And'  this  cold  farewell  took  place  in  the  front  of 
the  old  farm-house,  near  the  wooden  porch,  while  the 
men  stood  to  their  arms  in  the  orchard,  amidst  the  stems 
of  the  apple  trees,  with  the  huge  farm-buildings  in  their 
rear.  Hernani  was  smiling,  chatting  right  and  left,  and 
he  held  a  lighted  cigar  in  one  hand  when  with  the  other 
he  finally  grasped  Sara's  fingers. 

"We  shall  only  be  away  a  few  hours,  and  you  are  in 
good  hands — so  cheer  up,"  he  said  quite  lightly.  "You 
must  think  of  us  in  this  way — we  have  food,  ammuni 
tion,  and  are  in  health — so  there  must  be  no  worrying  or 
anxiety  on  our  account.  Do  you  promise?" 

Sara's  hand  rested  passively  in  his.  She  dared  not 
trust  herself  to  look  in  his  face.  She  could  not  open  her 
lips. 

"Very  well,"  he  muttered,  and  his  voice  shook  per 
ceptibly  as  he  added,  "Good-bye,"  and  to  Ladislaus  Go 
roski,  "Take  care  of  her,  Count." 

A  moment  after  they  were  off  with  a  ringing  cheer, 
marching  amongst  the  stems  of  the  trees,  lost  to  sight 
of  the  farm  and  its  inmates,  none  of  them  knowing  that 
two  dark  figures,  two  women,  followed  them  quite  a  dis 
tance,  further  than  was  safe,  to  obtain  a  last  glimpse, 
and  with  the  anxiety,  the  sorrow  in  their  hearts  that 
women  wrestle  with  when  husbands  and  brothers  go  out 
into  danger.  No  one  knew  either,  that  in  the  dusky 
shadows  of  the  woods  Hernani  brushed  away  more  than 
one  tear,  while  affecting  to  be  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and 
breathing  nothing  but  confidence  and  encouragement 
upon  all  sides.  Throughout  the  whole  of  that  day  they 
marched — those  young  fellows,  jubilant,  cutting  jokes. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  24! 

behaving  as  though  they  were  tramping  to  a  wedding,  a 
carouse,  or  to  meet  the  girl  of  their  choice,  rather  than 
in  the  cold,  with  spare  food,  over  rough  country,  to 
their  first  engagement,  their  first  blood-letting,  as  it 
proved  to  be. 

No  event  marked  that  long,  wearying,  machine-like 
movement  along  the  flat  ground,  amongst  trees,  through 
open  glades,  and  past  an  occasional  hamlet,  farm,  or 
isolated  hut,  until  the  waning  light  and  the  deepening 
shadows  made  faces  and  forms  gray  and  indistinct,  and 
at  that  hour,  just  as  some  of  the  weaker  ones  were  flag 
ging,  and  rest  was  being  thought  of,  a  shout  re-echoed 
along  the  line,  and  a  dark  mounted  form  drew  rein  in 
their  midst.  What  was  the  news?  It  was  this — so  this 
man,  their  scout,  would'  have  it — the  Russians  were  at 
hand  and  in  force — two  to  three  hundred  infantrymen, 
if  one,  and  he  could  lead  the  way  to  where  he  believed 
they  would  be  found  camping  for  the  night. 

A  halt  and  a  meal  was  ordered,  then  with  the  greatest 
caution  an  advance  was  commenced,  orders  being  given 
that  not  a  word'  was  to  be  spoken,  not  a  sound  made; 
and  in  this  deep  silence,  throughout  the  blackness  of 
these  amaranthine  shades,  following  the  cautious  move 
ments  of  their  guide,  they  stepped  along  without  ex 
changing  a  syllable,  obedient  as  children,  their  hearts 
beating,  their  eyeballs  strained,  feeling  that  at  last  some 
thing  decisive  was  to  happen,  and  that  blows  were  to 
be  struck  for  the  possession  of  the  soil  upon  which  they 
stood,  the  beloved  country  in  which  the  oppressor  had 
dared  to  make  a  home. 

Within  a  mile  or  so  of  where  their  foes  were  believed 
to  be,  they  were  again  halted,  with  instructions  to  re 
main  quiet,  to  kindle  no  fire  or  light,  to  make  no  noise, 
but  wrapped  in  their  coats,  to  seek  the  deepest  shadows 
and  patiently  await  orders.  Hernani  and  Dorozynski 
both  spoke  to  them,  mindful  that  many  of  them  were  of 
good  blood,  serving  at  their  own  discretion  and  by  free 

16 


242  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

will,  therefore  meriting  greater  consideration  and  gen 
tler  handling.  A  subordinate  officer  was  left  in  charge 
of  them,  and'  Hernani  and  the  Count  went  forward, 
treading  in  the  footprints  of  the  scout  as  nearly  as  they 
could,  bent  on  reconnoitering  the  Russian  position,  and, 
if  feasible,  on  making  a  prompt  and  telling  attack  upon 
this  nest  of  enemies,  at  once  so  near  to  them,  so  danger 
ous  to  their  very  existence  and  to  the  cause  they  so  ar 
dently  supported.  Less  than  a  mile  of  this  stealthy  work 
absorbed  more  than  an  hour  of  time,  but  with  eyes  well 
accustomed  to  the  darkness,  at  the  end  of  that  short 
period,  which  had  seemed  like  an  eon,  a  fire  was  dis 
covered,  and  soon  afterwards,  what  appeared  to  be  the 
figure  of  a  soldier,  erect  and  motionless  upon  the  watch. 

So  they  were  not  going  to  have  it  all  their  own  way, 
and  the  Russian  chief  had  been  too  wide  awake  to  neg 
lect  the  common  precaution  of  posting  sentries.  Re 
tiring  and  edging  to  the  right,  through  an  open  glade, 
they  at  length  got  a  better  view  of  the  hasty  bivouac, 
carefully  noting  the  strength  of  the  place;  then,  with 
drawing  to  a  distance,  they  consulted  as  to  the  move  to 
be  made.  Darkness  favored  an  attack;  the  time  would 
be  ripe  enough  towards  midnight,  but  the  only  sentry 
they  had  come  upon  was  in  the  wood  through  which  they 
must  advance.  With  a  quick  grip  of  the  situation  Her 
nani  decided. 

''Leave  him  to  me,"  he  said;  "he  shall  be  disposed  of 
or  his  mouth  shall  be  stopped,  whichever  suits  best.  You 
go  back  and  bring  up  the  men  so  as  to  be  here  by  twelve 
o'clock.  That  will  give  me  time  enough,  and  by  then 
our  friends  yonder  will  have  grown  sleepy.  You  will 
find  me  waiting  for  you  upon  this  spot." 

"Ah!  But  if  you  fail  to  kill  or  capture  the  fellow," 
objected  Dorozynski  very  naturally,  "the  alarm  will  be 
given  and  we  shall  have  the  whole  force  upon  us.  Be 
sides,  look  at  the  risk  you  run.  As  a  younger  and  an 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  243 

unmarried  man  I  am  better  suited  for  such  work.  Your 
life  ought  not  to  be  hazarded." 

Hernani  was  speechless  for  some  moments,  as  though 
the  objections  raised  were  hard  to  digest.  Then,  with 
out  even  noticing  the  remarks  about  himself,  he  said 
coolly — 

"Leave  all  that  with  me,  my  friend.  The  first  thing 
for  us  to  do  is  to  have  confidence  in  each  other.  As  for 
danger11 — and  he  gave  a  little  laugh — "a  man  can  die 
but  once.  Come — go  along — be  back  here  at  midnight. 
You  will  find  me  waiting  for  you.  Meantime  I  shall 
have  turned  Indian,  to  suit  the  occasion,  and  experiences 
in  my  early  life  have  taught  me  how  to  do  it.  Go  along, 
you  skeptic,  you  can't  fancy  a  banker,  a  business  man, 
knowing  aught  of  warfare,  much  less  how  to  muzzle  a 
Russian  sentry,  eh?" 

"He  is  probably  a  picked  man/'  grumbled  Dorozynski. 

"So  much  the  better,"  retorted  Hernani  firmly;  "be 
off!"  And  in  that  firmness  there  was  a  resolute  ring 
which  told  the  Count  to  go;  so  he  went,  though  with 
many  misgivings.  Left  to  himself,  Hernani's  first  ac 
tion  was  cool,  if  extraordinary:  in  a  sheltered  spot  where 
he  deemed  it  safe  to  do  so,  he  lighted  a  cigar,  and  there, 
crouched  upon  the  ground,  watching  the  red  glow  come 
and  go  as  he  inhaled  the  fragrant  smoke,  he  became  con 
scious  of  thinking  with  great  clearness  and  vigor.  The 
track  of  his  life  stretched  in  a  long  thin  line  behind  him. 
He  could  see  every  inch  of  the  way  back.  He  had 
schemed,  toiled  and  made  love,  and  to  what  end?  There 
was  his  deserted  business  and  his  home  to  which  he  could 
never  return,  unless  all  went  well.  There  was  his  wife 
who  had  taught  him  to  love  her,  and  then  deceived  him 
as  he  thought.  Nowhere  could  he  discern  anything 
worth  living  for.  It  had  come  to  that — it  was  a  mistake, 
and  he  knew  it  at  that  moment,  having  topped  the  hill 
and  being  half-way  down  the  slope  that  led  to  the  foot. 

Assuredly    he   was   the    man    for    some    mad    act    of 


244  HERNANI  THE  JEW 

daring — he  knew  that  too — as  a  vision  of  the  foes  of  his 
race,  the  oppressors  of  his  forefathers,  arose  before  him. 
Perhaps  it  was  his  turn — his,  the  Jew,  since  these  ene 
mies,  these  heavy  task-masters,  were  <feo  near,  and  it 
might  be,  delivered  into  his  hands. 

Then,  as  though  to  control  and  balance  the  harsh  and 
bitter  thoughts,  kindlier  and  better  ones  crowded  upon 
each  other.  The  Most  High  had  been  good  to  him  all 
his  life  through.  Though  myriads  of  beings  covered  the 
earth,  had  it  not  pleased  Him  to  create  him  one  of  the 
chosen  race,  which,  though  scattered  and  trodden  down 
for  a  while,  would  in  the  end  unite,  and  triumph,  as  one 
people  under  one  God?  Health  and  riches  and  honor 
had  been  given  him  over  long  years,  and  though  the 
love  he  had  treasured  had'  changed  and  was  fast  growing 
gray  and  colorless,  there  was  a  reason  for  life  and  living, 
which  the  one  word  Duty  described.  He  had  a  duty  to 
Sara,  to  the  country  of  his  adoption;  also  and  before  all, 
if  he  could  but  remember  it  always — to  the  God  who 
gave  him  breath.  Then  why  despair  or  yield  to  depres 
sion?  Was  it  not  fair  and  manly  to  measure  the  rough 
against  the  smooth,  and  was  it  not  pleasant  to  feel,  and 
hear,  and  breathe;  to  see  the  flashing  stars,  the  moon, 
.and  the  glorious  sun,  and  to  know  that  the  Maker  of 
them  was  his  Maker,  the  Supporter  and  Controller  of 
them,  his  Helper  too  and  friend?  Of  course,  in  common 
with  other  human  beings,  it  was  not  given  to  him  to 
understand  much  of  these  mysteries,  but  while  the  soft 
winds  rustled  in  the  tree-tops,  and  the  dappled  clouds 
chased  each  other  in  the  wondrous  sky  where  the  warb 
ling  voiced'  birds  found  echo,  could  it  ever  be  too  hard 
to  live?  Even  in  those  sad  and  serious  moments — Sara 
being  at  the  root  of  such  gloom — Hernani  thought  not. 
Then  he  bestirred  himself,  and  having  shivered  a  little 
and  buttoned  his  coat  about  his  throat,  he  noticed  that 
the  moon  peered  through  the  trees,  and  that  a  broken 
scud  sailed  swiftly  over  it. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  245 

For  a  few  moments  he  remained  thinking — thinking 
as  though  painfully  disturbed;  then  producing  a  pocket- 
book  and  pencil,  aided  by  the  light  from  his  cigar,  he 
made  this  simple  inscription  in  the  Hebrew  tongue:  "I 
have  loved  you  always,  Sara — always,"  and  he  added  a 
date.  "Should  she  ever  see  it  she  will  understand,"  he 
muttered,  replacing  it  in  his  pocket;  and  then,  as  though 
conscious  that  he  had  rested  and  thought  enough,  he 
set  his  face  towards  where  the  Russian  infantrymen  lay 
r-noring  round  their  flickering  fires,  and  where — in  a 
little  log  hut  or  hovel,  seen  as  the  flames  had  crackled 
and  leaped — he  had  no  doubt  the  officers  would  be  found, 
enveloped  in  tobacco  smoke,  playing  cards,  and  drink 
ing  wine  or  vodka. 

Bearing  to  the  right  as  before,  after  a  slow  and  tortu 
ous  movement,  in  which  he  dreaded  the  snapping  of  a 
twig  or  a  false  step,  he  again  lay  at  full  length,  looking 
down  the  glade,  which  at  the  point  of  the  camping 
ground  widened  perceptibly.  At  first  there  was  no  sign 
of  life,  only  dark  masses,  recumbent  forms,  piled  arms  or 
food  and  forage  upon  which  uncertain  shadows  were 
cast;  then  a  soldier  arose,  and  with  his  heavy  boot 
kicked  the  burning  logs  together,  heaped  on  fresh  ones, 
and  took  a  bit  of  blazing  wood  between  his  fingers  to  re 
kindle  his  pipe.  There  was  only  this  straight  glade 
passing  through  the  encampment,  the  hut  or  hovel, 
which  might  have  belonged  to  a  wood-cutter,  being  to 
the  left,  and  as  far  away  as  the  shadows  would  permit  of 
seeing.  In  the  intense  stillness  Hernani  could  hear  the 
sounds  of  voices  and  laughter  proceeding  from  it,  and 
light  gleamed  through  the  chinks  of  the  logs  and  door. 

Smiling  grimly  to  himself  as  an  idea  struck  him,  he 
began  to  drag  himself  along  the  ground,  keeping  within 
the  shadow  of  the  trees,  and  never  pausing  except  to 
be  sure  that  he  was  unobserved,  until  he  judged  himself 
to  be  between  the  sentry  and  the  camp.  Then  he  turned 
and  began  an  advance  upon  where  he  felt  sure  the  man 


246  HERN  AN  I  THE  JEW. 

was  posted.  After  a  while,  and  to  his  delight,  he  found 
that  he  had  not  deceived  himself.  There,  ahead,  stood 
a  motionless  figure.  Availing  himself  of  a  line  of  tree- 
trunks  he  stood  up,  shook  a  powdering  of  crisp  snow 
and  dead  leaves  from  his  heavy  coat,  and,  with  his  hand 
upon  a  revolver  hidden  in  his  pocket,  waited  for  a  mo 
ment  of  dense  gloom.  In  such  obscurity,  favored  by 
the  length  and  cut  of  his  great-coat  and  flat  peaked  cap, 
he  could,  he  thought,  play  the  role  of  officer  well  enough. 
With  caution  he  approached  the  man.  Within  five  yards 
he  did  not  stir.  Was  it  a  man?  The  outline  was  odd 
and  irregular.  He  stepped  up,  and  to  his  amazement 
discovered  the  stump  of  a  tree,  thicker  than  a  pine  and 
covered  with  ivy.  How  astounding — but  what  good 
fortune — and  how  stupid  he  had  been — the  scout  and 
Dorozynski  would  never  be  able  to  trust  their  eyesight 
again  after  such  a  mistake! 

He  had  meant  to  ignore  the  danger  of  a  challenge 
coming  from  the  sentry  or  the  camp,  to  take  the  risk 
and  in  Russian  say  authoritatively  to  the  fellow,  "Fol 
low  me,  my  man";  then  when  at  a  safe  distance  to  turn 
upon  and  cover  him  with  the  revolver,  adding  the  threat 
that  if  he  spoke,  he  might  consider  himself  dead. 

Perhaps  it  was  a  mad  scheme,  perhaps  it  would  have 
failed,  although  executed  with  the  complete  confidence 
he  had  felt. 

One  thing  was  certain — the  Russian  officers  were  bent 
on  enjoying  themselves,  and,  as  he  had  by  chance  pre 
dicted,  were  not  going  to  put  either  themselves  or  their 
men  out  to  keep  watch,  when  opposed  to  such  canaille 
as  stupid  civilian  insurgents. 

"The  fools,"  said  Hernani  to  himself — "they  have  yet 
to  learn  that  it  is  well  to  conquer  a  foe  before  despising 
him!  It  only  remains  to  show  them  what  those  they 
scorn  can  do." 

After  stumbling  about  in  the  gloom,  sinking  deep  in 
snow,  damp  earth,  moss,  and  leaves,  and  knocking  his 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  247 

shins  many  times,  he  again  arrived  at  the  spot  fixed  by 
him  for  the  rendezvous. 

Dorozynski  was  awaiting  him,  and  after  a  few  hurried 
sentences  in  which  they  exchanged  ideas  and  agreed 
upon  a  plan  of  attack,  they  proceeded  to  spread  through 
the  wood;  the  men  having  been  again  warned  that  suc 
cess  depended  upon  silence.  Dividing  the  force,  Doro 
zynski  was  to  advance  upon  one  side,  and  Hernani,  cross 
ing  the  glade  or  ridge  at  a  higher  point,  to  close  in  on 
the  other,  when,  without  cover  to  protect  them,  the  Rus 
sians  would  be  exposed  to  a  cross  fire.  The  signal  for 
action  was  to  be  a  shot  from  Hernani's  own  rifle. 

About  to  be  pitted  against  regular  troops  said  to  out 
number  them — under  conditions  highly  trying  to  the 
nerves,  sleepless  and  after  a  long  march — the  men,  or  in 
a  few  instances  boys,  as  some  writers  have  called  them, 
stepped  out  with  precision,  caution,  and  pluck.  They 
were  patriots  in  arms  against  oppression,  there  to  fight 
for  their  parents  and  their  homes,  about  to  wrestle  for 
the  glorious  liberty  their  forefathers  had  enjoyed.  They 
represented  their  nation;  keen  human  interests  warmed 
the  breast  of  each  one,  and  being  educated  for  the  most 
part,  proud  memories  stirred  and  strengthened  them. 
Such  feelings,  backed  by  the  might  and  splendor  of 
right,  would  atone  for  their  youth,  their  lack  of  experi 
ence  and  discipline — all  their  defects — there  should  be 
no  flinching — they  would  triumph. 

Pale  with  such  thoughts,  but  cool  and  confident,  they 
groped  their  way  midst  the  trunks  of  the  pine  trees,  until 
at  length,  and  almost  simultaneously,  both  little  bands 
looked  upon  the  Russian  camp. 

The  scene  there  had  changed.  There  was  a  stir;  some 
shouts  issuing  from  dark  hurrying  forms  told  that  they 
had  been  discovered.  Then,  at  that  critical  moment — 
by  good  fortune  or  the  will  of  God — came  the  solitary 
shot  for  which  they  were  to  wait — the  signal  which 
boomed  through  the  silent  night-enshrouded  woods, 


248  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

only  to  have  its  echo  drowned  by  the  sharp  crackle  of 
the  Minie  rifles,  as  slowly  advancing-,  loading  rapidly 
and  aiming  low,  Dorozynski  and  Hernani  led  them  to 
the  attack. 

Even  under  these  disadvantages,  surprised,  exposed  to 
a  galling  fire  from  foes  whose  position  and  numbers  they 
could  judge  of  only  by  the  flashes  of  the  shots  which 
struck  them  down,  the  dogged  but  phlegmatic  Russians 
moved  like  machines.  They  tried  to  arm,  tried  to  form 
up,  and  did  so,  back  to  back,  in  two  separate  bodies. 
Charging  amongst  the  trees  they  attempted  to  dislodge 
their  enemies,  the  disturbers  of  their  slumbers,  who, 
scarce  yielding  an  inch,  met  them  with  clinched  teeth 
and  the  warm  steel  muzzles  of  their  rifles  which  belched 
forth  a  deadly  hail.  They  were  veteran  troops,  but  they 
found  it  hot,  too  hot,  and  stumbling  down  the  slight 
slopes  into  the  camp  again,  disconcerted,  it  looked  as 
though  they  were  beaten.  But  after  all  it  was  a  mere 
check,  and  again  they  rushed  into  the  gloom. 

At  this  stage  Hernani  thought  that  Dorozynski  was 
being  driven  back;  his  fire,  it  seemed,  was  slackening 
— he  himself  was  hard  pressed.  Obeying  a  sudden  im 
pulse,  he  shouted,  "These  men  have  fired  upon  your 
women!  Remember  the  massacres,  remember  the  Con 
scription" — and  almost  point  blank,  he  discharged  his 
revolver  at  the  head  of  an  officer,  who  sword  in  hand, 
would  have  cut  him  down.  A  wild  yell  greeted  the  en 
couragement.  Still  they  were  pressed.  Dorozynski  was 
at  his  wits'  end.  Oh!  for  regular  troops  and  the  steady 
coolness  born  of  discipline.  In  despair  he  cheered  and 
charged,  in  his  loudest  voice  shouting  a  stave  of  the  na 
tional  hymn,  the  prayer  for  liberty.  The  effect  was 
magical.  •  There  was  not  a  man  there  but  pressed  for 
ward  or  stood  firm  with  the  strength  and  the  courage 
of  ten,  the  strange,  grand,  soul-stirring  music  ringing 
in  his  ears,  and  lightning-like  thoughts,  evoked  by  it. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  249 

flashing,  quivering  through  him — for  his  women,  his  old 
mother,  his  sister,  his  wife  or  girl-lover. 

Before  that  nervous  vigor,  that  heroic  front,  the 
Russians  wavered  and  again  recoiled.  They  were  not 
used  to  face  and  fight  with  men  who  strove  for  the  ties 
that  make  life  dear  and  ennoble  it;  it  was  too  much  for 
them  at  such  an  hour  and  under  such  conditions.  With 
shouts  which  became  cheers,  footing  in  the  camp  was 
gained;  a  few  dropping  shots  like  the  crackle  of  burn 
ing  wood  followed,  and  the  fight  was  won,  the  last  of 
the  heavy  gray-coated  figures  had  disappeared  into  the 
gloom. 

Unobserved  and  in  pathetic  silence,  Hernani  and  Dor- 
ozynski  wrung  each  other's  hands.  The  struggle  had 
been  a  sharp  one,  and  throughout  it,  their  all  had  hung 
in  the  balance.  Without  speaking,  they  understood  each 
other,  and  Hernani's  wish  was  accomplished,  confidence 
between  them  was  established. 

Having  collected  an  armful  of  rifles,  a  little  ammuni 
tion  and  some  provisions — all  that  was  to  be  found — 
with  their  dead  and  wounded — four  men  had  been  killed 
and  more  than  twice  that  number  injured — a  swift  re 
treat  homewards  was  commenced,  another  weary  march 
begun,  footsore,  hungry,  and  with  alarms,  but  in  repay 
ment  for  the  anxiety  and  exposure,  at  length  there  came 
the  arrival  unharmed  at  the  camp. 

Thanks  to  the  rapidity  with  which  news  travels — 
whether  of  good  or  evil — rumors  had  reached  Sara  even 
in  advance  of  a  message  which  Hernani  had  despatched 
as  soon  as  he  could.  Aware  that  amongst  the  peasants 
through  whom  such  reports  filtered,  there  were  those 
who  took  a  delight  in  lying,  she  knew  not  what  to  be 
lieve,  and  until  she  was  again  gladdened  with  a  sight  of 
Hernani — the  one  man  in  the  world  who  belonged  to 
her.  and  the  one  of  all  others  most  blind  to  her  good 
qualities — her  anxiety  was  well-nigh  unendurable. 

In  spite  of  the  victory  won,  the  price  paid  for  it  occa- 


250  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

sioned  a  gloom.  Of  this  Hernani  was  unconscious.  His 
mind  was  too  full.  In  the  presence  of  fresh  news  from 
the  Central  National  Committee,  and  of  several  reports 
which  he  knew  to  be  trustworthy,  he  shut  himself  up 
with  Dorozynski.  The  information  received  from  the 
Committee  clashed  with  that  supplied  by  his  own  agents, 
whom  his  connections  as  an  influential  business  man 
made  widespread,  and  whom  his  wealth  enabled  him  to 
pay  well. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  he  asked,  laying  the  papers 
before  the  Count.  "Read  for  yourself.  This  one  from 
the  Committee  is  a  catalogue  of  success  from  beginning 
to  end.  The  tenor  of  the  others  is  dubious,  and  gives 
details  which  are  distressing.  Because  we  have  been 
brutally  treated,  should  we  in  return  be  guilty  of  down 
right  cruelty?  Read  the  thing." 

Without  a  word,  the  Count  sat  down  and  did  as  he  was 
bid. 

The  scene  was  a  striking  one.  These  two  careworn 
men,  closeted  in  this  farmhouse  room,  which  bore  signs 
of  having  been  used  for  stores,  and  odds  and  ends  for 
which  no  use  could  be  found  at  the  moment.  A  couple 
of  chairs  and  a  table  without  polish  or  cloth,  were 
grouped  in  the  center  of  a  bare  plank  floor.  Bunches 
of  herbs  and  paper  bags  containing  seeds,  lay  amidst  dust 
upon  shelves  or  hung  pendent  from  hooks  driven  into 
the  walls,  while  a  hammer  and  some  strips  of  cloth  for 
nailing  up  fruit  trees,  lay  near  a  stove,  within  which 
roared  a  fire  of  split  pine  logs.  It  was  a  poor  place  in 
which  to  decide  questions  of  life  and  death,  and  added 
to  the  general  discomfort,  the  cold  that  morning  was  in 
tense,  the  frost  thick  upon  the  window,  which  was  dirty 
and  looked  upon  the  cheerless  ice-coated  fish-pond. 

Hernani  paced  the  room  with  heavy  step  and  lonc^ 
stride,  keeping  the  table  between  himself  and  the  seat 
occupied  by  the  Count,  who  read  to  the  end  and  then 
laid  down  the  papers. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  251 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it?"  demanded  Hernani, 
seeing  that  the  Count  had  finished.  "Give  me  your  opin 
ion." 

"I  think  that  the  official  suggestion  to  join  Langie- 
wicz*  and  co-operate  with  him,  is  a  good  one,  if  we  could 
carry  it  out." 

"If  we  could  carry  it  out?"  repeated  Hernani. 

"Yes;   it  would  be  difficult,  I  admit." 

''We  should  have  to  risk  being  intercepted  and'  forced 
to  fight,  perhaps  in  the  open,  and  we  both  know  how 
near  we  have  already  been  to  defeat,  though  everything 
was  in  our  favor  at  the  time." 

"Yes,"  assented  the  Count. 

"And  then,  what  about  supplies,  which  are  already 
running  short?  We  should  have  difficulty  in  collecting 
sufficient  to  keep  us  going  on  the  march — but  these  are 
all  questions  which,  though  of  the  first  importance,  we 
are  not  called  upon  to  decide  in  haste.  What  has  upset 
me  is  this.  In  the  dispatch  from  the  Committee,  the 
peasants  are  alluded  to  'as  arming  and  supporting  the 
cause  generally.'  Now  our  own  experience  latterly  has 
taught  us  quite  the  reverse,  and  this  information  from 
private  sources,  upon  which  I  can  depend,  contains  no 
such  reassuring  statement.  In  addition,  atrocities  which 
chill  one's  blood,  are  boldly  spoken  of." 

"But  let  us  consider  one  subject  at  a  time,"  suggested 
the  Count;  "the  atrocities — 

"Ah!  let  us  speak  of  them,"  interrupted  Hernani  ex 
citedly.  "Can  good  come  of  capturing  a  Cossack  and 
beating  him  to  death  with  the  butt  of  a  rifle?  Can  good 
come  of  burning  Muscovite  soldiers,  because  they  have 
barricaded  themselves  and  can  be  overcome  in  no  other 
way — and  what  about  murdering  them  while  sleeping, 
setting  fire  to  their  barracks  as  though  to  hide  the  crime? 
Can  good  come  of  that,  I  ask  you,  and  I  say  'No'  without 
waiting  for  your  reply?" 

*  A  leading  General,  and  for  a  few  days  Dictator. 


252  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"But  if  these  deeds  have  been  done —  '  began  the 
Count. 

"Unhappily,  no  doubts  upon  the  subject  are  admis 
sible/'  interrupted  Hernani. 

"Very  well,  then;  they  have  simply  been  retaliatory 
acts.  The  Muscovites  have  behaved  as  monsters.  You 
may  depend  upon  that,  or — 

"Oh!  I  know,  I  know — proofs  of  that  are  not  want 
ing.  But  such  an  argument  will  not  suffice.  As  I  have 
said,  because  we  are  ill-used,  should  we  be  cruel?  Fair 
fighting  is  what  I  had  hoped  to  see,  and  for  a  fair  cause 
had  come  to  support,  but  such  accounts  as  these  make 
me  sick.  We  are  not  barbarians.  Is  it  charitable,  is  it 
noble?  I  am  disgusted.  I  had  hoped  to  do  good  with 
the  rifle,  as  I  have  tried  to  do  with  the  ruble.  For  this 
I  have  toiled  early  and  late,  and  this  I  know — that  rather 
than  have  connected  myself  with  a  cause  so  conducted, 
I  would  have  fled  from  the  country  as  a  criminal  does, 
under  cover  of  night.  Oh!  I  tell  you,  my  friend,  I  am 
incensed." 

The  Count  bowed  his  head.  What  could  he  say?  Her- 
nani's  sentiments  were,  in  the  main,  his  own.  At  length, 
however,  his  face  brightened  and  he  looked  up. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "there  is  this  consolation.  To  what 
ever  straits  we  are  driven,  we  at  least  may  make  our 
selves  known  for  our  fairness  and  mercy.  We  are  not 
responsible  for  the  actions  of  others,  whom  we  cannot 
control,  but  of  our  own  doings  we  must  be  prepared  to 
give  an  account." 

"Yes,  that  is  true — we  can  control  our  own  actions," 
muttered  Hernani  absently,  as  though  thinking  of  some 
thing  else;  then  resuming  his  naturally  energetic  utter 
ance,  he  added,  "But  there  is  a  more  serious  aspect  to 
the  affair,  and  it  is  this:  such  dealing  will  be  prejudicial 
to  us  in  the  eyes  both  of  peasants  and  proprietors.  As 
it  is,  they  are  hanging  fire,  ready  to  rush  to  the  winning 
side,  or  are  watching,  without  a  policy,  too  timid  to  act. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  253 

Ah!  what  fine  patriots.  Shall  I  tell  you  something?  If 
these  proprietors,  these  land-owners,  were  decided  and 
united,  success  would  follow  without  doubt.  Poland 
would  be  free.  There  could  be  no  other  result.  As  mat 
ters  stand — I  fear — I  have  my  fears." 

"Langiewicz*  is  doing  wonders,"  said  the  Count,  try 
ing  to  appear  hopeful,  even  confident.  "It  says  here"- 
and  he  glanced  at  one  of  the  letters — "  'that  already  four 
out  of  eight  chief  towns  are  in  his  hands.'  That  looks 
well.  And  some  of  the  peasants  are  also  friendly,  and 
the  priests  are  with  us  to  a  man." 

"Yes,"  assented  Hernani. 

"And  the  news  from  Paris  is  not  disheartening.  Czar- 
toryskif  speaks  with  confidence,  and  is  not  only  capable, 
but  may  be  counted  upon  to  do  his  best.  The  fact  that 
a  few  Frenchmen  are  already  scattered  over  the  country, 
may  also  have  its  good  meaning." 

"True,"  murmured  Hernani,  and  then  he  walked  to 
the  window,  staring  through  its  frosted  panes  at  the 
pond,  for  full  five  minutes  without  speaking.  Young 
Sicinski,  the  son  of  the  owner  of  the  farm,  of  whom  Riva 
had  spoken  as  "smoking,  smoking  always,"  had  flung  a 
stick  for  his  dog  to  retrieve,  and  as  the  beast,  having 
made  a  rush,  slipped  helplessly  upon  the  glassy  surface, 
barking  furiously  the  while,  the  young  fellow  laughed 
until  his  face  reddened.  Some  fowls  scratched  and 
clucked  upon  a  manure  heap — four  hens  and  a  jaunty 
little  bantam  cock — and  the  contented  but  disagreeable 
grunting  of  pigs  could  be  distinctly  heard  occurring 
with  monotonous  frequency. 

At  the  distance  of  two  fair-sized  fields,  through  the 
straggling  branches  of  some  leafless  walnut  trees,  a 
number  of  the  men  could  be  seen  jogging  along  on  their 

*  General  Langiewicz  was  in  the  government  of  Radom,  and 
had  done  this. 

t  Prince  Ladislaus  Czartoryski,  then  in  Paris,  representing 
Polish  interests. 


254  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

return  from  a  foraging  expedition.  On  seeing  these 
young  fellows  earnestly  fulfilling  their  duties,  an  intense 
ly  serious  expression  stole  over  Hernani's  face.  The 
dog  sliding  over  the  ice  had  made  him  smile,  though  un 
consciously,  and  the  vigor  with  which  the  fowls  sought 
for  food  had  not  escaped  his  quick  eye,  but  the  glimpse 
he  had  caught  of  the  men  who  believed  in  him  and  had 
followed  his  fortunes,  made  him  reflect.  In  the  event 
of  a  disaster  what  could  be  done  for  them — what  could 
atone  for  their  loss  to  the  parents  whom  he  had  per 
suaded  them  to  leave?  Perhaps  he  had  been  wrong — 
Perhaps —  With  an  irritable  shrug  of  the  shoulders 
and  a  twirl  of  the  fingers  which  drew  his  moustache  to 
a  point,  he  turned  on  his  heel. 

"It  would  be  well  for  us  if  we  could  join  Langiewicz," 
he  recommenced  brusquely;  "in  small  detached  bodies 
scattered  over  the  country,  we  cannot  have  the  weight 
and  strength  that  combination  would  give  us.  We 
shall  be  annihilated  in  detail — that  will  be  the  end  of  it. 
Divided  we  are  weak,  united  we  should  be  strong." 

"But  to  join  the  General,  even  with  regular  troops, 
in  the  teeth  of  the  opposition  certain  to  be  encountered, 
would  be  a  dangerous  and  difficult  operation." 

"Therefore  one  not  to  be  attempted  with  the  force  at 
our  disposal." 

"I  think  not.    We  are  not  fit  to  run  the  gauntlet." 

"Well,"  said  Hernani,  "you  must  be  the  judge  upon 
such  a  point.  Your  opinion  is  a  practical  one.  But  we 
must  consider." 

"Yes,  we  must  give  it  thought.  A  hasty  decision 
might  be  a  fatal  one,"  replied  the  Count,  lighting  a  cig 
arette — which,  he  contended,  soothed  him  always — and 
emitting  some  little  rings  of  smoke. 

After  a  pause,  during  which  both  seemed  lost  in  re 
flection,  the  conversation  drifted  into  other  channels, 
and  they  talked  of  the  scarcity  of  supplies,  of  the  ever- 
increasing  difficulties  encountered  in  obtaining  them,  of 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  255 

the  amount  of  ammunition  their  one  successful  engage 
ment  had  cost  them,  of  the  quantity  still  left ;  and  Doro- 
zinski  was  deep  in  such  matters,  when  Count  Adam  Go- 
roski  burst  in  upon  them,  and  in  spite  of  the  grave  out 
look,  sent  them  into  fits  of  laughter,  by  mimicking  the 
manner  and  expressions  of  one  of  the  young  fellows  who 
had  played  his  part  in  administering  to  the  Muscovites 
the  defeat  they  had  sustained,  and  who  had  been  foolish 
enough  to  brag  of  it  in  no  mild  terms. 

After  Dorozynski  and  Goroski  had  left  him,  Hernani 
was  disturbed  by  Riva  entering  with  a  message  from 
Sara  which  necessitated  seeing  her,  and  so  the  day  wore 
on.  Having  attended  to  innumerable  details,  and  given 
instructions  of  a  varied  nature,  in  the  dusk  of  the  after 
noon  he  found  himself  alone  for  a  few  minutes,  and  dur 
ing  that  time  the  whole  of  his  conversation  with  the 
Count  again  recurred  to  him.  He  felt  keenly  what  he 
had  said  on  the  subject  of  the  atrocities,  yet  had  not 
said  a  tithe  of  what  he  had  thought.  It  cut  him  to  the 
quick  to  think  that  any  member  or  portion  of  the  party 
with  whom  he  was  allied,  and  for  whom  he  had  risked 
all  a  man  can  risk,  should  be  guilty  of  acts  at  once  ig 
noble  and  blood-thirsty;  and  it  weighed  nothing  with 
him,  as  he  had  said,  that  the  Muscovite  oppressors  should 
in  the  first  instance  have  been  guilty  of  even  more  des 
perately  brutal  outrages. 

His  thoughts  straying  a  little,  other  ideas  floated  be 
fore  him — oft  recurring  recollections  of  the  difficulties 
he  had  met  with  always,  of  the  indignities  to  which  he 
and  his  race  had  been  subjected;  of  the  well-nigh  super 
human  efforts  he  had  put  forward  before  the  business 
he  had  conducted  had  become  great. 

And  then  of  how  hard  it  was  for  him  to  think  that 
the  police  were  in  possession  of  his  premises,  that  his 
splendid  home  was  shut  up  or  overrun  by  strangers, 
that  he  himself  was  an  outlaw  in  the  eyes  of  that  Govern 
ment  whose  rule,  had  it  been  an  equitable  one,  he  would 


256  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

so  gladly  have  upheld.  Harder  still  was  it  for  him  to 
look  upon  his  wife,  to  see  her  placed  in  the  thick  of  dis 
comforts  and  hardships,  and  hourly  in  danger  of  life 
and  limb,  after  the  luxury  lavished  upon  her,  the  love 
which  he  had  given  her,  and  of  which  in  his  heart,  he 
at  times  felt  that  death  alone  could  deprive  her.  What 
was  to  become  of  her  if  the  peasants  would  not  rise  in 
defense  of  the  soil  to  which  they  were  heirs,  if  the  land 
owners — the  men  of  substance — continued  to  present  a 
timid  and  vacillating  front,  and  to  blow  neither  hot  nor 
cold?  Dimly  he  felt  that  it  might  soon  be  beyond  his 
strength  or  resources  to  protect  and  save  her  from  the 
unscrupulous  and  cruel  hands  of  those  enemies  whom, 
in  his  dark  moments,  he  thought  of  as  closing  in  on 
him  upon  all  sides.  Then  too  came  visions  of  his  home 
life  as  it  had  once  been,  of  the  days  which  had  been 
sweetened  by  labor  and  love — perfect  love,  but  for  his 
one  great  grievance,  his  one  regret — that  no  children 
had  come  of  it.  And  it  never  occurred  to  him  that  he 
had  been  at  all  unreasonable  in  forming  and  adhering 
to  the  decision  at  which  he  had  arrived  in  the  cafes  at 
Warsaw,  when  he  had  drunk  so  much  vodka,  after  hav 
ing  tracked  Sara  to  the  palace  and  watched  her  leave  it. 
He  had  always  told  himself  that  her  manner  towards 
him — considered'  apart  from  her  actions — had  of  itself 
proved  her  guilt.  He  even  took  some  credit  to  himself 
for  his  forbearance,  in  having  so  unswervingly  befriend 
ed  her  in  spite  of  her  behavior,  as  he  had  resolved  to  do. 
So,  after  all,  he  was  very  weak,  very  stupid,  very  human, 
in  spite  of  his  great  abilities  and  the  gift  akin  to  genius, 
of  knowing  what  he  could  do  best,  and  doing  it  with  his 
whole  might.  Such  was  the  substance  of  his  reflections 
in  the  chill  winter  of  that  afternoon,  during  the  last  lull 
he  was  to  know  for  awhile. 

As  usual,  when  she  could  be  near,  Sara  was  not  far 
from  him,  but  the  steel-blue  glitter  of  the  stars,  far  away 
in  the  frost-bound  sky,  found  her  bending  over  the 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  257 

wounded  sufferers  who  had  come  in ;  forgetting  her  own 
anxieties — forgetting  even  Hernarn' — as  she  strove  with 
gentle  touch  and  kindly  word  to  lessen  the  pain  they 
endured,  the  injured  ones  being  grateful  beyond  descrip 
tion;  and  though  she  tried  to  check  their  utterances, 
telling  her  so,  while  overhead  the  stars  still  gleamed 
coldly  down,  flashing  as  proudly  as  the  eyes  of  a  cynical 
worldly  woman  to  whom  nothing  seems  romantic  or  pa 
thetic. 

They  had  witnessed  so  many  struggles,  those  distant 
twinkling  worlds  of  light;  they  had  seen  so  many  dark 
forms  totter  forth  upon  the  earth,  supporting  burdens 
too  heavy  for  them,  all  the  while  exhibiting  the  courage 
and  indomitable  will  of  the  tiny  insects  upon  which  they 
also  looked — the  ants — yet  only  ant-like  to  disappear  be 
neath  the  hard  ground,  when  with  dull  thud  it  came  to  be 
heaped  upon  them.  It  was  pitiful.  So  haughty,  ma 
jestic  and  marvelously  distant  was  their  scintillating  si 
lence,  that  it  might  have  been  taken  to  say,  as  it  played 
upon  the  roof  of  that  lonely  farmhouse  and  peered  into 
the  pallid  faces  of  the  afflicted  ones,  "Why  are  ye  not 
now  content  to  depart? — it  will  save  you  much  trouble." 
But  of  such  icy  ideas  Sara  knew  naught.  She  had  found 
objects  worthy  of  her  attention,  beings  with  hearts  of  flesh 
and  blood  like  her  own,  upon  whom  she  could  pour  all 
the  pent-up  womanliness  within  her.  The  instincts  of  a 
mother  were  so  strong  in  her,  and  her  imagination  was 
such  a  restless  and  vivid  one,  that  while  handing  a  cool 
ing  drink,  a  dose  of  medicine,  or  smoothing  a  tumbled 
pillow,  the  tearful  faces  of  the  anxious  and'  lonely  par 
ents  left  in  Warsaw  arose  before  her,  and  her  heart 
warmed  and  expanded,  and  she  told  herself  silently  that 
she  would  try  her  best  to  fill  the  places  of  the  absent  ones, 
and  that  the  sick  men  should  be  to  her  as  her  children. 
Then  too  a  sense  of  duty  influenced  her.  Was  not  Her- 
nani,  or  perhaps  Count  Dorozynski,  responsible  for  hav 
ing  persuaded  these  young  fellows  to  bear  arms  in  the 

17 


258  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

cause  which  they  supported?  Had  they  remained  quiet 
ly  in  Warsaw,  possibly  they  might  have  escaped  harm. 
So  it  was  in  vain  that  Riva  pleaded  and  whined. 

"What  will  become  of  your  beauty,  my  lamb?  Take 
sleep  or  it  will  vanish.  One  is  young  but  once.  It  is  a 
sin  to  destroy  youth.  See,  now — you  will  get  gray,  your 
eyes  heavy,  and  wrinkles  will  come  to  remain.  Do  as  I 
tell  you.  I  will  sit  up,  and  in  the  morning  you  will  be 
fresh  and  a  joy  to  all  eyes.  For  me  it  does  not  matter; 
work  was  the  portion  allotted  to  me." 

"And  what  was  my  portion,  pray?''  Sara  inquired 
comically. 

"To  be  careful  of  yourself,  and  by  so  doing  to  care  for 
those  who  love  you,"  replied  Riva. 

"But  if  I  cared  for  myself  at  the  expense  of  others,  I 
should  be  hated.  No;  you  must  let  me  have  my  way. 
You  are  more  tired  than  I  am." 

"Let  me  sit  up,"  interposed  Deotima,  who  had  over 
heard  Riva's  expostulations;  "it  would  be  a  change  for 
me.  I  am  as  strong  as  a  horse — stronger  than  either  of 
you." 

Thus  beset,  Riva  gently  obliged  Sara  to  give  up  some 
broth  she  was  carrying,  and  muttering  half  audibly, 
"Victuals  prepared  by  many  cooks  will  be  neither  hot  nor 
cold,"  she  disappeared  into  the  sick-room.  But  in  spite 
of  such  appeals  and  the  display  of  so  much  decision  on 
Riva's  part,  the  end  was  the  same — Sara  invariably  did 
as  she  wished. 

Owing  to  the  strain  upon  her  nerves,  occasioned  by 
the  uncertainty  and  danger  of  the  position  she  found  her 
self  in,  added  to  the  anxiety  about  Hernani,  all  of  which 
sensations  became  aggravated  by  loss  of  sleep,  she  began 
again  to  live  at  fever-heat.  It  was  as  though  she  existed 
in  momentary  dread  of  the  police  once  more,  though, 
now  that  that  fear  had  passed,  it  seemed  trifling  when 
compared  with  the  morbid  terror  which  stole  into  her 
heart  and  left  her  face  colorless,  whenever  the  danger  to 


HEKNANI  THE  JEW.  259 

which  Hernani  was  exposed  occurred  to  her.  A  sudden 
sound  made  her  start  and  shudder.  Her  beautiful  eyes 
shone  and  dilated  with  feelings  which  crossed  her  mind 
with  the  rapidity  of  those  variable  cat's-paws  which  skim 
the  otherwise  placid  bosom  of  the  sea.  She  would  talk 
with  careless  vivacity,  appearing  tireless  in  her  activity, 
but  when  alone,  overcharged  and  overwrought,  she 
would  pay  the  penalty  in  floods  of  tears.  Nothing  es 
caped  her.  She  was  like  an  instrument  screwed  to  its 
highest  pitch — to  that  of  breaking.  She  had  even  ar 
rived  at  the  point  of  imagining  that  the  responsibility  of 
the  whole  situation  rested  upon  her  shoulders.  And 
just  in  the  midst  of  this  trying  period,  when  most  in  need 
of  support,  she  was  disappointed  and  saddened  by  the 
fullest  consciousness  of  isolation  and  loneliness  she  had 
ever  experienced.  Riva  even  galled  her  by  the  manner 
in  which  she  dropped  her  wise  sayings,  borrowed  and 
stored  up  to  fit  any  occasion.  For  instance,  the  faithful 
and  shrewd  old  servant  grasped  the  situation  so  cleverly, 
that,  while  trotting  on  her  legs  all  day,  and  racking  her 
brain  to  save  Sara  either  labor  or  anxiety,  she  must  needs 
say  to  her — 

"Take  things  quietly,  my  lamb,  or  you  will  wear  your 
self  out.  What  says  the  Book?  The  sun  will  set  with 
out  thy  assistance.' " 

Sara  was  irritated.  The  remark  was  meant  well,  she 
knew,  had  she  stopped  to  think,  but  to  her  ears  ju.it  then 
it  seemed  ill-judged. 

"Don't  prate,  Riva — I  hate  it!"  she  exclaimed  angrily; 
with  the  result  that,  feeling  it  best  not  to  say  more,  Riva 
stole  out  of  the  way. 

Deotima  too  had  proved  a  disappointment.  In  the 
time  of  trouble  she  was  not  sympathetic,  and  Sara  had 
been  disgusted  at  the  callousness  displayed  by  her  when 
told  of  the  deaths  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the  fight. 
The  tender  and  gentle  qualities  in  the  young  girl  ap 
peared  to  be  dried  up,  and  in  place  of  them  had  come  a 


260  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

hard  and  stony  desire  for  revenge.  The  injured  ones 
were  looked  to  by  her  with  care  and  attention,  but  when 
strong  enough  to  bear  it,  she  took  occasion  to  fire  their 
blood  with  the  repetition  of  wrongs  inflicted  and  insults 
endured.  To  Sara  this  seemed  to  be  a  needless  stirring 
up  of  strife.  She  herself  hoped  to  be  courageous  when 
necessity  demanded,  but  she  pitied  the  Muscovite  rank- 
and-file,  thinking  of  them  as  poor  uneducated  soldiers, 
who  were  only  obeying  orders  when  they  received  or  in 
flicted  wounds  or  death.  If  they  were  brutal,  it  seemed 
to  her  that  it  must  be  because  they  knew  no  better.  All 
her  indignation  and  hatred  she  reserved  for  the  chiefs, 
who  instigated  or  directed  movements  which  necessitat 
ed  what  she  dimly  began  to  understand  as  the  horrors  of 
war. 

Sometimes  she  would  try  to  imbue  Deotima  with  her 
own  milder  views,  to  which  she  would  once  have  lis 
tened;  but  Deotima  as  she  had'  been  in  Warsaw,  and  Deo 
tima  face  to  face  with  Russian  foes,  were  two  different 
persons. 

"Ah!"  the  young  girl  would  exclaim,  "you  have  not 
suffered  as  I  have." 

"But  you  do  not  know!"  urged  Sara,  thinking  of  her 
early  life  and  of  her  dead  parents. 

"Know  what?"  inquired  Deotima  with  startling  energy. 

"To  what  extent  I  and  mine  have  been  injured." 

"How  should  I?  You  do  not  tell  me,  but  I  am  sure 
you  can't  have  gone  through  what  I  have.  Your  wrists 
have  never  been  bruised  by  the  vile  hands  of  filthy  Cos 
sacks,  you  have  never  been  dragged  into  your  own  gar 
den,  and  there  made  to  stand,  amidst  jeers  and  obscenity, 
while  being  stripped  of  your  clothing.  Such  insults  I 
have  not  forgotten  or  forgiven,  and  never  shall.  No — 
never  as  long  as  I  live.  And  what  would  have  happened 
but  for  Andrew,  I  tremble  to  think.  Besides,  you  seem 
to  forget  that,  not  content  with  hunting  us  from  our 


HERNAN1  THE  JEW.  261 

home,  by  their  barbarous  conduct  they  killed  my  fath 
er." 

At  that  point  she  broke  down,  the  mention  of  the  dead 
Count  invariably  reducing  her  to  tears.  Of  course  Sara 
ended  by  sympathizing  with  her,  as  any  woman  would. 

Being  thus,  as  described,  keenly  on  the  alert,  it  at 
length  came  to  Sara's  ears  that  a  great  move  had  been 
decided  upon;  in  short,  they  were  to  make  an  heroic  ef 
fort  to  join  General  Langiewicz,  who  at  the  moment  was 
known  to  be  successful  in  all  directions.  This  step  being- 
deemed  wise,  though  bristling  with  danger  and  difficulty, 
preparations  for  taking  it  were  at  once  begun. 

In  the  noontide  of  that  very  day,  and  within  a  few 
hours  of  the  time  at  which  the  decision  had  been  arrived 
at,  a  mounted  patrol  returned  to  camp  at  a  gallop, 
breathless  and  having  been  fired  upon.  Hernani,  pre 
pared  for  anything,  received  the  news  as  composedly  as 
though  it  were  a  mere  business  communication. 

The  Russians  were  not  five  miles  distant,  and  were 
advancing  swiftly  upon  the  position.  The  whole  force 
was  composed  of  infantry,  and  if  the  peasants  were  to  be 
believed,  they  were  the  men  upon  whom  the  night  at 
tack  had  been  made.  The  idea  of  co-operating  with 
General  Langiewicz  was  instantly  abandoned.  Fresh 
orders  were  issued,  a  plan  of  resistance  long  agreed  upon 
adopted,  and  in  a  few  minutes  after  the  instructions  were 
given,  every  man  was  armed  and  at  his  post. 

"Go  and  ease  the  minds  of  the  women,"  said  Hernani 
to  Dorozynski;  "go  to  nty  wife.  You  will  do  better  than 
I  should.  She  can  read  my  face  too  well;  besides,  being 
a  soldier,  she  will  attach  more  importance  to  what  you 
say." 

Though  his  faith  in  Sara  was  so  shaken,  Hernani's 
first  thought  was  of  her. 

"Go  to  her,"  he  repeated,  and  Dorozynski,  though 
conscious  that  his  mission  was  a  difficult  one,  went. 

In  attendance  upon  the  sick  men,  calm  and  self-pos- 


262  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

sesscd,  Sara  bore  some  resemblance  to  a  patient  and 
beautiful  sister  of  mercy,  as  in  her  black  dress  she  min 
istered  to  their  wants. 

"You  see,  I  learned  how  to  make  myself  useful  when  I 
was  very  young  and  very  poor/'  she  said  gayly,  adding 
playfully,  "Hush!  you  must  be  quiet,  or  I  shall  turn  you 
out  instantly." 

The  Count  smiled.  What  could  he  say  to  this  nervous 
creature,  who  was  so  kind  and  so  adorable  in  her  simple 
dress  of  mourning,  symbolical  as  it  was  of  the  sorrow  of 
a  nation  for  its  enforced  captivity?  Seeing  his  embar 
rassment,  she  came  to  his  assistance. 

"You  want  to  tell  me  something,"  she  said;  "don't  be 
afraid.  I  am  not  easily  alarmed." 

"Well,"  he  blundered  like  the  soldier  he  was,  not  the 
diplomat  he  wished  to  be,  "some  stupid  Russians  are  in 
the  neighborhood.  We  may  have  to  drive  them  off,  so 
don't  be  surprised  if  you  hear  the  sound  of  firing." 

"Who  sent  you?"  she  inquired  abruptly. 

"Your  husband,"  he  answered. 

"Why  did  he  not  come  himself?"  it  was  on  her  tongue 
to  say. 

"Tell  him  I  don't  understand  what  fear  is,"  she  replied, 
her  face  crimsoning. 

"May  I  say  that?"  he  asked,  admiration  and  satisfac 
tion  marking  his  utterance. 

"Of  course,"  she  said,  with  a  laugh;  "and  add  that  he 
is  to  take  good  care  of  himself." 

"If  all  our  hearts  are  as  stout  as  yours,  we  shall  do," 
murmured  the  Count  below  his  breath ;  then  he  went  off, 
after  some  casual  remarks,  in  which  advice  to  Deotima 
figured. 

So  Hernani  had  thought  of  her,  Sara  reflected.  True 
he  might  have  come  himself — yet  she  was  pleased. 

One  by  one  the  pickets  were  driven  in,  though  with 
out  the  firing  of  a  shot,  as  powder  was  so  precious,  and 


HEKNANI  THE  JEW.  263 

soon  afterwards  the  head  of  the  Russian  column  came  in 
sight. 

The  next  move  made  by  the  enemy  was  to  send  a  flag 
of  truce,  which  Major  Suroff — for  he  it  was,  in  command 
— mindful  of  the  instructions  received  by  him  from  Gen 
eral  Hourko,  ordered  as  a  cautious  and  possibly  effective 
method  of  obtaining  his  ends — namely,  the  possession  of 
the  women,  the  arrest  of  the  chiefs,  and  the  dispersal  of 
the  force. 

If  he  entertained  such  hopes  seriously,  however,  they 
were  quickly  destroyed.  In  answer  to  the  proposition  of 
an  unconditional  surrender,  coupled  with  the  vague 
promise  of  fair  treatment,  Hernani  and  Dorozynski  ten 
dered  a  brief  but  resolute  refusal.  It  was  of  course  ex 
pected  that  an  attack  would  soon  follow  this  absolute  re 
jection  of  all  overtures,  but,  strangely  enough,  during 
the  remainder  of  that  day  no  such  attempt  was  made, 
though  through  the  night  the  watch-fires  were  seen 
burning  brightly,  while  at  intervals  shots  were  fired,  and 
there  were  constant  alarms.  The  Count  and  Hernani 
were  of  one  mind  in  a  decision  they  formed  to  act  entirely 
on  the  defensive,  and  to  further  this  object,  Sara  and 
Deotima,  with  the  wounded,  were  made  as  comfortable  as 
was  possible  in  the  out-buildings,  the  stout  walls  of  which 
were  better  adapted  to  stand  a  siege  than  those  of  the 
farm  itself.  The  old  house  was  strongly  garrisoned  how 
ever,  bags  stuffed  with  earth  being  stacked  up  to  the 
height  of  a  man  at  all  weak  points,  such  as  the  windows, 
the  rifle  barrels  being  thrust  between  and  through  them, 
the  glass  having  been  carefully  removed. 

All  that  night  no  eyes  were  closed,  and,  shivering  and 
sleepless,  the  questions  were  often  put — "Do  they  mean 
to  starve  us  out?  What  can  they  be  waiting  for?  Is  it 
the  daylight,  or  are  they  fatigued  with  their  march?"  To 
such  remarks  many  answers  and  suggestions  were  made, 
which  again  were  as  often  upset  by  new  ideas  and  opin 
ions.  The  morning  brought  no  relief,  only  the  informa- 


264  HERNANI  THE  JEW- 

tion  that  the  attacking  force  had  encamped  snugly 
amongst  the  pines,  and  with  boughs  torn  from  the  trees 
had  erected  shelters,  which  for  hardy  soldiers,  warmly 
clad  and  well  fed,  might  serve  for  days.  In  addition,  the 
weather  seemed  to  favor  them,  the  atmosphere  having 
turned  warmer  by  several  degrees. 

In  consultation  with  the  two  Goroskis  and  Count  Do- 
rozynski,  Hernani  expressed  the  opinion  that  Major 
Suroff  meant  to  tire  and  weaken  them,  before  hazarding 
an  attack. 

"Otherwise,  why  this  delay?"  he  demanded. 

"Perhaps  reinforcements  are  expected,"  suggested 
Count  Adam. 

"They  probably  think  mere  rifles  insufficient  against 
stone  walls,  manned  by  men  who  are  desperate,"  ob 
served  his  brother. 

Hernani  made  no  answer,  since  it  was  evident  that 
nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  talking,  but,  as  if  to  prove 
the  soundness  of  such  haphazard  conjectures,  it  was 
found  impossible  to  convey  supplies  of  any  kind  into 
camp.  Small  detachments  of  Russian  infantry  disputed 
the  passage  of  all  the  roads,  and  in  face  of  the  fact  that 
powder  was  so  scarce,  temporary  orders  were  issued  to 
prevent  skirmishing,  unless  it  was  found  necessary  to 
engage  in  it. 

At  the  end  of  forty-eight  hours  the  position  had  not 
changed,  but  near  about  that  time  a  sudden  alarm  fur 
nished  at  least  one  reason  for  Major  SurofFs  silence.  A 
few  shouts  were  heard,  a  few  flying  shots  indulged  in, 
as  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  a  fittle  cloud  of  mounted 
Cossacks  dashed  right  through  the  camp,  leaping  their 
horses  over  all  obstacles,  and  escaping  clear,  but  for  the 
emptying  of  two  saddles.  An  hour  later  safe  dragoons 
were  encountered  on  one  of  the  roads,  and  then  another 
night  dragged  itself  out  into  the  gray  of  the  new  day, 
in  the  early  light  of  which  Suroff,  thus  strengthened. 
commenced  the  attack. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  265 

The  dark  outline  of  the  fir-trees  could  just  be  seen 
through  the  mist  and  fine  drizzling  rain,  the  long  strag 
gling  branches,  heavy  with  moisture,  hanging  sadly,  like 
sepulchral  ostrich  plume's,  pendent  and  motionless,  there 
being  no  wind.  The  snow  had  melted  or  been  trodden 
into  dirty  gray  patches,  and  as  the  eye  traveled  along  the 
level  ground  which  separated  the  farm  with  its  out-build 
ings  from  the  belt  of  wood,  and  finally  rested  upon  the 
stems  of  the  trees,  from  between  their  straight  trunks 
flashes  of  flame  spurted,  and  little  white  clouds  of  smoke 
curled  ominously. 

As  the  sounds  of  the  firing  became  continuous,  Riva's 
black  eyes  gleamed,  and  as  she  stood  in  the  great  barn 
which  now  sheltered'  them,  she  unconsciously  drew  near 
er  to  Sara's  side.  On  her  own  account  she  experienced 
no  sense  of  fear,  having  i'n  her  time  witnessed  too  many 
fierce  fights  of  the  Ghetto  to  be  readily  intimidated — it 
was  for  Sara  that  she  was  distressed — so  she  felt  for  a 
keen-bladed  knife  she  had  hidden  in  her  bosom,  and  with 
consummate  coolness  began  to  reckon  up  the  odds — for 
and  against — in  the  situation  which  she  rightly  judged 
to  be  one  of  life  and  death,  freedom  or  captivity  for  all 
concerned.  Only  once,  as  the  volleys  rattled  more  fierce 
ly,  and  a  storm  of  lead  struck  both  brick  and  plaster  with 
dull  ominous  thud,  did  she  hold  up  her  worn  fingers  and 
call  upon  God  to  witness  the  dire  distress  of  her  mind. 

"May  the  Lord  of  Hosts  fight  for  us!"  she  murmured 
in  a  broken  voice,  to  which  Sara,  who  was  assisting  in 
bandaging  the  arm  of  a  fresh  victim  to  the  Russian  rifle 
fire,  answered  below  her  breath — 

"Hush!  Riva.     Take  heart— He  will." 

It  seemed  that  that  was  all  Riva  wanted — just  to  hear 
her  mistress  speak — for  she  said  no  more,  though  eyes 
and  ears  worked  the  keener  for  her  silence. 

She  saw  Hernani  and  the  Count,  and  for  that  matter, 
the  two  Goroskis,  redoubling  their  efforts,  behaving  like 
men,  unflagging  in  their  determination  to  win  or  die,  and 


266  HERNANI  THE  JEW 

she  could  not  help  rubbing  her  bony  hands  together  with 
a  sort  of  fiendish  joy,  as  taking  the  rifle  of  a  young  Pole 
who  rolled  backward  in  the  death  agony,  Hernani  him 
self  pushed  the  barrel  through  the  loophole  whence  the 
fatal  shot  had  come,  and  waiting  his  chance,  disposed  of 
at  least  one  more  foe. 

If  this  state  of  things,  this  tumult  and  danger  found 
favor  with  anyone,  apparently  it  was  with  Deotima.  Her 
manner  became  animated,  her  actions  brisk,  her  eyes 
sparkled  and  the  color  in  her  cheeks  deepened;  the  im 
pression  she  would  have  conveyed  to  a  disinterested  on 
looker  would  have  been  that  she  had  triumphed  in  some 
great  purpose  of  her  life,  and  could  but  enjoy  with  keen 
relish  the  full  flavor  of  her  good  fortune.  And,  after  all, 
was  it  not  in  a  measure  natural?  With  the  hereditary 
enemies  of  her  house  and  of  her  race,  the  rude  ruffians 
who  had  shocked  her  girlish  modesty  and  threatened  her 
maidenly  virtue,  within  arms'  reach,  striking  distance, 
was  it  strange  if  her  blood  was  up,  the  expression  of  her 
face  determined,  and  her  heart  as  hard  as  that  of  a  man 
who  after  years  of  patient  waiting  at  length  confronts 
the  foe  of  his  life?  Of  course,  with  Deotima  it  was  pos 
sible  to  hate;  to  some  natures  it  is  not  so.  However, 
the  young  girl  of  her  own  accord  suddenly  developed 
into  an  experienced  vivandiere.  fulfilling  the  duties  which 
become  such  a  role  like  an  old  hand.  She  had  hunted  up 
a  little  wooden  cask  and  had  filled  it  with  fine  old  vod'ka, 
and,  while  pressing  upon  the  men  she  knew  best  a  tempt 
ing  drink,  she  stepped  from  her  pinnacle  as  a  young  girl 
of  birth  and  position,  and  became  at  once  a  friend,  an 
equal. 

To  induce  them  to  fight  with  every  nerve  in  their 
bodies,  she  struck  those  chords  which  she  knew  lay  deep 
est  in  their  natures;  she  even  went  so  far  as  to  whisper, 
"If  I  am  to  esteem  you,  you  must  fight  as  your  forefath 
ers  did  in  times  past."  With  such  words  confidentially 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  267 

spoken,  with  all  the  charm  of  manner  which  was  natural 
to  her,  she  restored  confidence  and  rekindled  enthusiasm. 

At  one  end  of  the  great  clumsy  old  barn,  with  its  pon 
derous  doors  and  massive  cross-beams  and  rafters,  there 
was  a  sort  of  loft,  approached  by  a  short  wooden  ladder, 
and  up  this  Deotima  climbed  unhesitatingly  in  pursuit 
of  her  purpose.  Here  the  noise  of  each  discharge  seemed 
more  deafening,  the  smoke  as  it  ascended  thicker,  the 
gloom  more  intense.  Still,  a  clearer  view  of  the  enemy 
could  be  obtained,  and  a  few  of  the  better  shots  had  ap 
propriated  these  higher  loopholes,  from  which  posts,  with 
praiseworthy  steadiness,  they  were  giving  a  good  ac 
count  of  themselves. 

Under  cover  of  a  hot  fire,  Count  Andrew  had  headed 
two  sorties,  with  the  object  of  driving  the  enemy  from 
their  position,  but  in  both  instances  had  been  repulsed 
with  loss. 

Choosing  what  she  believed  to  be  a  favorable  oppor 
tunity,  Deotima  singled  out  a  young  fellow  who  lay  flat 
upon  his  stomach  behind  some  hay,  and  bending  over 
him  said — 

"Pick  off  the  officers  if  you  can,  Ladislaus."  Then 
receiving  no  answer,  she  stood  upright,  and  glanced 
stealthily  into  the  gloom  on  all  sides  of  her,  the  nauseous 
fumes  of  the  powder  making  her  cough ;  finally  her  eyes 
became  riveted  on  a  small  strongly-made  trunk  of  wood, 
which,  had  she  not  known  where  to  look  for  it,  she  would 
never  have  discovered,  thrust  aside  as  it  was  in  a  corner 
near  the  eaves.  Deotima  unlocked  it  and  lifted  the  lid, 
then,  as  though  doubtful  or  nervous,  she  closed'  it,  and, 
stepping  back,  touched  the  young  man  on  the  shoulder, 
addressing  him  by  his  name.  Still  receiving  no  reply, 
she  shook  him  gently,  and  then  a  benumbing  sense  of 
horror  took  possession  of  her.  Sinking  on  her  knees  at 
his  side,  she  supported  herself  upon  her  hands,  the  sensa 
tion  that  she  touched  some  warm  liquid  substance  mak 
ing  her  start 'back  and  examine  them.  They  were  cov- 


268  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

ered  with  blood.  In  another  instant  she  knew  the  truth. 
A  bullet  had  passed'  through  his  forehead,  and  he  was 
dead. 

"Blessed  Mother,  this  is  too  horrible!"  she  gasped. 
"Ladislaus  dead!" — and  white  to  the  lips,  for  some  mo 
ments  she  felt  as  though  about  to  faint.  Recovering  her 
self  by  the  strongest  effort  of  which  she  was  capable, 
with  solemn  reverence  and  a  heart-breaking  expression 
of  despair,  she  made  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  and  with  a 
sigh  that  was  almost  a  gasp,  exclaimed  in  a  broken 
voice — 

"Poor  dear  Ladislaus!" 

It  was  Count  Ladislaus  Goroski. 

Returning  with  deliberate  steps  to  the  little  trunk, 
where  in  the  feeble  light  amidst  the  dense  blue  smoke  no 
eye  could  see  her,  she  stood  erect,  and  with  fingers  trem 
ulous  from  excitement,  not  nervousness,  began  to  unbut 
ton  her  bodice.  This  done,  she  next  freed  herself  of  her 
skirts,  substituting  in  place  of  them  a  pair  of  soldier's 
overalls,  which  she  tucked  into  high  leather  boots.  Then 
she  put  on  a  braided  tunic,  which  fitted  as  though  made 
for  her,  which  indeed  was  the  case.  Beneath  a  large 
flat-topped  cap  she  hid  her  hair,  drawing  the  peak  well 
over  her  eyes,  and  adding,  as  a  finishing  touch  to  her  dis 
guise,  a  long  military  great-coat  which  had  a  strap  at  the 
back,  she  stepped  up  to  the  body.  Exerting  all  her 
strength,  yet  with  infinite  tenderness,  she  dragged  it  away 
from  the  loophole,  and  taking  up  the  dead  man's  rifle, 
lay  down  on  the  floor  that  was  yet  warm. 

"Poor  Ladislaus!"  she  again  sobbed.  "So  they've  killed 
you — you  whom  I  loved  best — and  it  was  to  be  near  me 
that  you  came  here.  Very  well,  poor  darling,  you  shall 
be  revenged — we  will  both  be  revenged."  And  fairly 
choking  with  emotion,  she  prepared  to  fire. 

Below,  in  the  body  of  the  great  barn,  amidst  sound  and 
unsound  implements,  quantities  of  hay  and  roots  used  in 
feeding  the  cattle,  on  the  shaft  of  an  upturned  cart,  sat 


HERN  AM  THE  JEW.  269 

Hernani.  From  time  to  time  he  would  exchange  a  few 
words  with  Dorozynski,  or  satisfy  himself  as  to  the  move 
ments  of  the  enemy  through  a  slit  in  the  wall.  Hope  was 
still  strong  within  him.  It  was  not  his  fate  ever  to  be 
beaten.  Notwithstanding  the  reinforcements  of  dra 
goons  and  Cossacks,  Suroff  had  made  no  headway,  and 
must' have  lost  many  men.  It  only  there  had  been  plenty 
of  food  and  powder,  protected  by  such  stout  old  walls,  his 
chance  against  the  whole  Russian  force  would  have  been 
worth  a  good  round  sum.  As  it  was,  his  marvelous  for 
tune  would  not  forsake  him.  Something  favorable  would 
happen.  His  turn  would  come.  They  would  be  able  to 
beat  a  retreat,  having  crippled  their  foes.  The  Central 
National  Committee  were  aware  of  his  critical  position — 
perhaps  they  had  already  despatched  assistance — or  a 
turn  of  cold  would  be  a  fine  ally.  There  were  a  thousand 
and  one  chances.  Suroff  would  see.  He  would  receive 
another  lesson,  and  this  time  a  decisive  one.  Revolving 
all  these  possibilities  with  astounding  cheerfulness, 
amidst  the  strong  smell  of  the  place,  which,  mingled  with 
that  of  burnt  powder  and  human  beings,  was  almost  sick 
ening,  he  encouraged  those  about  him,  the  strange  in 
fluence  of  his  personality  remaining  as  yet  unimpaired, 
and  causing  the  poor  fellows  surrounding  him  still  to 
think,  "It  will  be  all  right — he  knows — we  shall  see." 

Amidst  the  uproar  of  the  fight,  the  rattle  of  the  firing, 
an  occasional  shout  of  triumph  or  scream  of  pain,  the 
frightened  lowing  of  the  two  or  three  oxen  yet  un- 
slaughtered,  and  the  shrill  neigh  of  dragoon  and  Cossack 
horses,  he  remained  calm  and  self-possessed  as  though  in 
his  great  counting-house  at  Warsaw.  Judging  by  his 
manner,  the  band  of  men  around  him — sweating,  dirty, 
and  worn  out — might  have  been  his  sleek,  well-fed  staff 
of  clerks;  the  huge  beams  and  dust-covered  rafters  above 
him,  his  own  roof-tree;  the  corner  of  the  place  in  which 
Sara  was  huddled  with  the  wounded,  a  handsomely  fur 
nished  apartment  in  the  splendid  home  he  had  left.  The 


2/0  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

might  have  been  did  not  affect  him;  he  was  himself  even 
with  what  was. 

It  was  the  master  mind  still  at  work,  the  man  of  huge 
possibilities,  hemmed  in  by  difficulties.  All  at  once,  and 
as  though  in  grim  derision  of  such  amazing  equanimity,  a 
chorus  of  exultant  shouts  pealed  through  the  damp, 
smoke-laden  air,  after  which  came  a  pause  of  some  min 
utes,  broken  at  the  end  of  that  time  by  the  sullen  roar  of 
a  heavy  weapon,  a  Krupp  cannon.  At  such  close  range 
the  round  shot  crunched  through  the  wall,  knocked  a 
shower  of  splinters  from  the  opposite  one,  and  rolled  and 
spun  almost  to  Hernani's  feet. 

Such  a  shock  moved  even  his  stout  heart.  Of  what 
use  brick  walls  with  a  well-served  Krupp  playing  upon 
them?  He  turned  the  shot  over  with  his  foot,  and'  for 
the  first  time  despair  seized  upon  him. 

So  there  was  to  be  no  relief  of  any  kind,  either  from  the 
distant  French,  upon  whom  he  had  cast  such  patient, 
hopeful  glances,  the  lukewarm  nobles,  of  whom  he  had 
expected  such  great  things,  or  the  Central  National  Com 
mittee,  who  were,  he  had  believed,  to  be  counted  upon. 
However,  the  strife  might  go  with  others;  all — all — had 
failed  him.  His  grand  schemes  were  at  an  end.  He 
would  never  deepen  the  Vistula,  so  as  to  accommodate 
a  large  carrying  trade,  or  start  his  great  banking  scheme 
which  was  to  have  crowned  him  with  the  name  of  univer 
sal  benefactor.  The  game  was  up.  He  was  caught  in  a 
trap  from  which  there  was  no  escape.  Very  well;  he 
was  not  of  the  sort  to  languish  in  some  foul  prison  or  rot 
by  inches  in  a  mine — they  should  see  how  he  could  die. 
As  though  reflection  even  were  denied  him,  at  that  in 
stant  Dorozynski  rushed  up  to  him,  and  with  breathless 
eagerness,  though  in  a  voice  inaudible  to  anyone  else, 
said — 

"You  see  how  it  is.  Again  they  have  been  strength 
ened,  and  if  we  can't  take  that  gun,  in  my  opinion  we  are 
done  for." 


HERNAN1  THE  JEW.  271 

Hernani  nodded;  words  failed  him. 

"Shall  we  try?" 

"Yes,"  he  said  huskily;  "you  get  the  men  together. 
This  is  the  moment  to  show  what  we  are  made  of." 

Still  sitting  upon  the  shaft  of  the  cart,  his  right  foot 
planted  upon  the  ground  supporting  his  weight,  he  drew 
out  first  one,  and  then  another  revolver,  to  assure  him 
self,  that  they  were  ready  for  use;  being  satisfied,  he  was 
in  the  act  of  replacing  them,  when  a  terrible  thought  en 
tered  his  mind.  What  about  Sara?  He  had  promised 
himself  that  she  should  never  fall  into  Russian  hands 
alive.  He  had  told  Dorozynski  so.  His  hope  of  pro 
tecting  her  was  as  good  as  gone,  the  chance  of  returning 
to  her  side  a  worthless  one.  The  moment  for  action  had 
suddenly  arrived.  What  was  to  be  done?  Could  he 
take  her  life?  Could  he  deliberately  shoot  her — his  wife 
—in  cold  blood?  Would  it  be  right  of  him?  Could  any 
extremity  justify  such  an  act?  There  she  was,  not  ten 
paces  from  him,  her  profile  clear  cut  against  the  dirt- 
begrimed  wall  of  the  barn,  and  though  as  pale  as  death 
she  was  as  beautiful  as  ever.  The  thought  was  too  hor 
rible.  For  a  few  seconds,  which  seemed  like  a  lifetime, 
he  paused  in  doubt,  turning  one  of  the  weapons  in  his 
hand,  his  eyes  gleaming,  fierce  lit  like  those  of  a  mad 
man,  the  muscles  of  his  forehead  contracted,  a  frightful 
expression  of  despair  and  irresolution  disfiguring  his 
fine  face;  another  shot  crashed  through  the  roof,  and 
shrieks  came  from  the  direction  of  the  farmhouse.  He 
could  hear  Dorozynski  addressing  the  men,  imploring 
them  to  be  brave — to  do  their  duty.  That  brought  him 
to  himself.  White  to  the  lips  he  put  away  the  weapon; 
then,  scarce  knowing  what  he  did  or  how  he  came  to  do 
it,  he  flung  himself  upon  Sara,  his  arms  upon  her  shoul 
ders,  choking  with  the  terrible  nature  of  his  feelings. 

"The  Holy  One,"  he  exclaimed— "the  Holy  One— He 
will  have  you  in  His  charge !" 

And  before  she  could  reply,  further  than  to  try  to  hold 


272  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

him,  he  had  wrenched  himself  clear  of  her,  and  passed 
out  into  the  light  drizzling  rain,  almost  side  by  side  with 
Deotima,  who  had  descended  from  the  loft,  and  who,  un 
noticed  by  anyone  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  took 
her  place  in  the  ranks  with  the  men.  Again  Dorozyn- 
ski's  voice  rose  high. 

"My  countrymen,  my  comrades,  remember  what  we 
have  been.  What  our  forefathers  did  we  can  do  again. 
Let  us  strike  for  our  beloved  country  and  for  our  homes.'' 

With  the  speed  of  despair,  and  the  recklessness  of  a  last 
hope,  the  small  but  solid  phalanx  of  heroes  answered 
him  with  cheers,  and  by  bursting  upon  the  Russian  posi 
tion  with  a  wild  hurrah  that  made  even  Suroff  admire 
and  wonder. 

"Take  them  prisoners — don't  cut  them  down !"  he  was 
heard  to  shout,  as  his  Cossacks  and  dragoons  rode 
through  and  through  them.  "Spare  all  you  can!"  he 
yelled,  well  knowing  it  to  be  too  late.  Yet,  despite  the 
fire,  the  charge,  they  were  at  the  gun,  amongst  his  men, 
Hernani  and  Dorozynski  still  living,  still  heading  them. 

Pressing  forward — all  that  remained  of  them — as 
though  the  spirit  of  ten  were  in  each,  they  were  hidden  by 
the  smoke,  the  mist,  and  the  brown  stems  of  the  pines, 
Sara  with  strained  eyes  watching  them,  as  dazed  with 
dread  of  what  might  happen  she  stood  out  in  the  open, 
stray  bullets  whistling  round  her,  and  old  Riva,  wild  with 
fear  for  her,  clinging  to  her  skirts  and  dragging  her  back 
under  cover. 

Borne  upon  the  heavy  winter  air,  the  shouts,  the  up 
roar,  the  melee  of  horse  and  man  and  clanging  weapons, 
soon  told  its  tale  of  widowhood  and  woe,  soon  lessened, 
and  slowly  died  upon  the  ear. 

In  minutes  swifter  to  pass  than  to  tell  of,  it  was  over, 
and  Dorozynski,  in  the  thick  of  it,  had  gone  upon  his 
knees  beside  a  form  he  had  thought  to  be  a  gallant  troop 
er,  fighting  at  his  side  throughout,  and  had  recognized 
to  be  a  woman  and  a  sister  only  as  a  fatal  bullet  had  sped, 


HEKNANI  THE  JEW.  273 

and  the  large  confederatka*  had  fallen,  setting  free  her 
golden  hair.  Blind  to  danger,  ignorant  of  what  fear 
meant,  deaf  to  everything  but  that  it  was  his  sister,  Deo- 
tima  whom  he  loved,  he  knelt  there,  his  heart  benumbed, 
his  tears  falling  as  a  woman's  might  have  done  upon  the 
long  slim  hand,  so  soft  and  white,  so  powerless,  and  so 
heavy. 

God!  How  he  longed  that  she  might  speak — that 
word  of  his  might  wake  once  more  some  spark  of  life  and 
light  within  the  glazing  eye  that  had  so  often  looked 
with  warmth  and  love  into  his  own! 

Could  he  survive  such  bitterness  as  Deotima  gone?  A 
shout  was  all  his  answer,  a  rush  of  horse  and  man  upon 
him.  To  stagger  to  his  feet,  to  try  to  ward  the  blow  was 
all  he  did,  and  all  he  did  was  not  enough  to  save  his  life. 
Pierced  through  and  through,  he  rolled  upon  the  ground', 
the  cries  of  those  he  hated  most  on  earth,  ringing  above 
him  as  his  life  blood  ebbed. 

They  might  have  spared  him,  so  young,  so  brave,  and 
fighting  for  his  native  soil;  yet  such  a  death  was  his  that 
all,  since  born  to  die,  might  covet. 

Recovering  as  from  a  sort  of  swoon,  the  new  sight  that 
showed  itself  to  Sara's  gaze  was  that  of  Riva,  struggling 
with  a  large,  clumsy-looking  Cossack,  her  keen  knife 
buried  in  his  arm,  the  great  barn  filling  with  men  not 
of  their  side,  soldiers,  helmeted  dragoons,  with  mud-be 
spattered  boots  and  uniforms,  and  swords  yet  stained 
with  blood;  Cossacks  rough  and  dirty;  infantrymen, 
snub-nosed,  fair-haired,  and  furious  like  the  rest  for  plun-- 
der  and  a  grip  of  the  foe  they  had  vanquished  at  last. 
Look  as  she  would,  there  was  no  sign  of  Hernani,  of 
Dorozynski,  of  one  friendly  face  to  lessen  the  horror  of 
the  feeling  that,  weak  and  unprotected,  she  was  at  the 
mercy  of  those  who  to  her,  at  such  a  moment,  seemed 
fiends  in  the  jrarb  of  men. 


*  Confederate  cap. 
18 


274  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

Springing  to  assist  Riva,  the  Cossack  caught  her  by  the 
neck  as  he  would  have  done  a  rat,  and  with  a  cuff  on  the 
side  of  the  head,  sent  her  reeling  backwards  against  the 
boards,  upon  which  the  wounded  were  stretched. 

The  huge  fellow's  triumph  over  his  feminine  antag 
onists  was,  however,  short-lived,  for  his  hands  were 
scarcely  quit  of  Sara,  before  a  shower  of  blows  descended 
upon  his  broad  back,  delivered  with  a  will  and  the  flat  of 
a  sword,  and,  turning  to  defend  himself,  who  should  he 
face  but  Suroff,  accompanied  by  several  officers  and  evi 
dently  in  no  mood  to  be  trifled  with. 

"What!  you  hound,  you  would  set  upon  women,  would 
you?  As  though  there  was  not  enough  men  about  for 
you  to  practice  upon!  You  dare  to  answer?" — as  the 
man  attempted  to  speak.  "Here,  Bazaroff — where  are 
you?" — turning  to  a  handsome  young  officer  of  Cos 
sacks.  "I  hand  him  over  to  your  tender  mercies — he  is 
one  of  your  fellows."  Then  stepping  up  to  Sara,  he  ad 
dressed  her  with  an  unclouded  face  and  a  slight  but  cap 
tivating  smile — "Madam,  are  you  the  wife  of  the  Jew,  by 
name,  Hernani?" 

By  this  time  Sara  had  recovered  herself,  and  now  stood 
erect  before  him. 

"I  am,"  she  answered  simply,  though  with  dignity. 

"I  guessed  as  much.  Well,  I  regret  that  I  was  not  in 
time  to  save  you  from  insult,  though  I  managed  to  do  so 
from  harm,  I  hope.  You  need  be  under  no  further 
apprehension,  I  assure  you;  though  a  prisoner  for  the 
time  being,  you  will  be  treated  with  every  respect  and 
consideration  while  in  my  charge.  Beyond  that  I  have 
no  power  to  promise.  In  a  little  while  I  shall  ask  you  to 
confine  yourself  to  one  of  the  rooms  in  yonder  farmhouse, 
where  I  suppose  you  were  living  until  I  was  forced  to 
disturb  you." 

This  rather  long  speech  eliciting  only  a  mute  assent 
from  Sara,  Suroff  fell  back  a  few  paces  amongst  his 
brother-officers,  his  fair  complexion  ruddier  with  increase 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  275 

of  color,  as  though  under  their  critical  glances  he  expe 
rienced  some  awkwardness  in  addressing  a  woman. 

"The  devil!''  he  muttered'  to  himself  under  his  fair 
moustache.  "So  that  is  his  Excellency's  fancy — and  no 
bad  one  any  way!  What  eyes,  and  what  a  figure!  A 
Persian's  idea  of  perfection,  being  plump  and  white.  She 
is  very  handsome — but — faugh !  a  Jewess."  Then  to  the 
officers  around  him,  with  a  significant  smile — "One  must 
always  be  civil  to  women,  but  of  this  one  we  had  better 
see  as  little  as  possible,  or  it  will  be  a  case  of  trespassing 
upon  other  people's  property."  Then  in  response  to  an 
amused,  almost  comical  exchange  of  glances — "Oh! 
don't  mistake  me;  I  mean  the  observation  for  myself  as 
much  as  for  Bazaroff,  or  any  of  you." 

"Well,  sir,"  ventured  Bazaroff,  w7ho  was  a  licensed  fa 
vorite  and  knew  it,  "since  she  is  a  prize,  taken  in  warfare, 
it— 

"Matters  very  much  sir,"  interrupted  Suroff  with  well- 
assumed  severity,  straightening  his  muscular  figure,  and 
looking  large  and'  important  in  his  loosely-cut  greatcoat, 
heavy  boots  and  clanking  spurs. 

Within  an  hour  of  Suroff's  brief  remarks  to  her  Sara 
found  herself  locked  up  with  Riva,  in  the  very  room 
Hernani  had  appropriated,  and  from  the  window  of  which 
he  had  smiled  as  the  young  Sicinski's  dog  had  slid  upon 
the  ice-bound  pond  in  pursuit  of  the  stick  thrown  to  him. 

"Oh!  my  lamb,  my  lamb,"  groaned  Riva,  after  a  dead' 
silence,  which  it  seemed  to  her  would  never  be  broken, 
"what  is  to  become  of  us — what  is  to  become  of  us?  Not 
a  bone  of  me  seems  in  place,  and  I  ache — oh !  how  I  ache. 
That  unclean  beast  of  a  man  shook  me  as  the  whirlwind 
would.  The  teeth  in  my  head  rattled,  and  I  thought  my 
hour  had  come." 

Sara  stood  before  the  window — her  back  to  Riva — her 
mind  far  from  the  sodden  cheerless  landscape  upon  which 
her  gaze  seemed  fixed.  Snow  in  large  flakes  descended 
with  that  sliding  zigzag  motion  peculiar  to  it,  and  the 


276  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

drip,  drip  of  moisture  from  the  branches  of  a  tree,  which 
in  the  fitful  puffs  of  air  occasionally  rubbed  against  the 
window  panes,  was  plainly  audible.  There  were  no  tears 
in  her  eyes  now — they  glittered  with  a  hard  cold  light— 
and  her  lips  met  tightly,  as  though  she  suffered,  while  her 
face  was  deadly  white. 

"To  think  of  it  all,"  pursued  Riva;  "it's  terrible — ter 
rible,  and  half  my  time  I  can't  believe  I'm  Riva  and  not 
mad  or  dreaming.1' 

Still  Sara  remained  silent,  Riva  regarding  her  long  and 
wistfully,  with  an  expression  of  acute  anguish  in  her  face. 
For  some  minutes  she  too  contrived  to  remain  speech 
less,  then  she  broke  out  again. 

"This  is  beyond  me  to  bear — this  is  awful!  In  Cracow 
it  was  bad.  Times  were  hard.  In  Warsaw  I  was  miser 
able  towards  the  last,  but  to  be  shut  up  here  like  sheep 
in  a  slaughter-house — I  wish  I  were  dead,  for  I'm  hope 
less,  and  to  be  hopeless  is  worse  than  death." 

"Hopeless?  I  am  not!"  Sara  suddenly  exclaimed 
fiercely.  "They've  not  killed  me  yet!" 

Riva  sprang  to  her  side,  and  clinging  to  her  skirt  grov 
eled  at  her  feet,  an  unspeakable  joy  illuming  her  thin 
dark  face  so  seamed  with  wrinkles. 

"I  am  not,"  Sara  repeated.  "Is  this  the  time  to  grum 
ble — is  this  the  time  to  despair?  Oh!  I  feel  distracted." 

"At  last  you  speak.  The  Holy  One  be  thanked !  That 
is  what  I  wanted  and  waited  and  talked  for — to  hear  the 
sound  of  your  voice.  Never  a  word  have  you  spoken  for 
five  hours,  judging  by  the  light,  and  with  it  all,  cold  as 
an  icicle,  and  never  a  tear.  I  grew  to  be  frightened,  for 
what  do  I  live  for  but  you?  I  could — 

And  Riva  fairly  broke  down,  her  pent-up  feelings  es 
caping  in  hysterical  sobs.  Impelled  by  the  woman's  al 
most  idolatrous  affection,  Sara  laid  her  hand  firmly  upon 
her  shoulder  and  in  a  gentle  though  decided  tone  said— 

"Hush!  That  will  help  neither  of  us.  We  have  got 
to  think  and  act  and  be  brave." 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  277 

"And —  who —  would —  not —  be —  with —  with  you  ?" 
quavered  Riva.  "Oh!  it  does  my  old  heart  good  to  hear 
you — and — what — courage " 

Sara  laid  her  finger  upon  her  lips  and  turned  her  head 
in  the  attitude  of  listening.  The  sentry  grounding  his 
rifle  outside  the  door  occasioned  her  no  surprise.  Some 
thing  more  unusual  had  disturbed  her. 

"What  can  it  be?  There  it  is  again!"  she  exclaimed 
in  an  excited  voice. 

Riva  passed  her  bony  hand  across  her  wet  face  and 
listened  attentively,  scream  after  scream  reaching  them  at 
length,  though  faintly,  owing,  no  doubt,  to  the  thickness 
of  the  walls. 

"It's  nothing,  my  lamb — nothing  that  need  trouble 
you,"  she  declared  with  languid  indifference,  well  know 
ing  the  necessity  of  soothing  Sara. 

"You  are  wrong,  I  am  certain.  It  is  the  cry  of  some 
man  in  pain,"  answered  Sara  in  awe-stricken  accents;  and 
then  there  followed,  sweeping  through  her  mind  with 
lightning  speed,  her  recollection  of  that  land  in  which 
she  had  spent  her  life;  of  the  cruel  scenes  she  had  herself 
witnessed,  and  the  barbarities  of  which  she  had  been  told. 
Troubled  beyond  the  power  of  words  to  describe,  she 
clutched  Riva's  arm  convulsively,  and  in  a  voice  which 
excitement  reduced  to  a  whisper,  gave  vent  to  the 
thoughts  which  had  been  upon  her  mind,  but  which  un 
til  that  moment  she  had  lacked  the  courage  to  put  into 
words. 

"What  of  him — where  is  he — what  can  have  hap 
pened?" 

To  such  questions  it  was  not  in  Riva's  power  to  make 
answer.  Her  own  concern  for  Hernani  was  neither  deep 
nor  warm.  Any  consideration  she  might  have  felt  for 
him  had  been  swamped  by  jealousy  in  the  days  when  her 
mistress  had  been  happy,  and  since  then  by  a  growing 
dislike,  he  to  her  mind  being  the  absolute  and  unworthy 
cause  of  all  Sara's  grief.  Besides — had  he  not  got  them 


278  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

into  their  present  plight — the  fool — as  she  thought  of 
him?  Therefore  knowing  the  nature  and  staunchness 
of  the  heart  he  had  won,  and  fearing  to  wound  by  some 
ill-judged  word,  she  took  refuge  in  silence. 

"What  of  him,  I  say,"  Sara  repeated,  still  gripping  her 
arm,  till  Riva  could  feel  the  little  nails  cutting  into  her 
skin — "is  he  dead,  or  are  they  torturing  him?" 

"No,  no,  nothing  of  that — it  cannot  be,"  the  woman 
ventured,  thus  driven  to  say  something.  "See  the  chari 
ty  he  has  bestowed  upon  others,  the  schools  he  has  built, 
and  the  synagogues,  and  the  money  he  has  cast  about 
him  on  all  sides.  He  will  not  be  forgotten  of  Him  who 
rules  the  world,  and  who  knows  the  hearts  of  Kings.  The 
master's  good  fortune  will  not  fail  him  even  in  such 
straits.  Take  heart — you  will  see." 

"Do  you  think  so,  Riva?     Is  that  what  you  think?" 

"I  know  it  here,  my  lamb," — pointing  to  her  heart; 
"though  what  says  the  Book?  'When  the  ox  is  down 
many  are  the  butchers.'  " 

Riva  knew  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  thought  quite  the 
contrary.  That  signified  nothing.  Sara  must  be  com 
forted;  to  her  mind  the  circumstances  warranted  her 
words. 

"Bless  you  for  saying  that!"  murmured  Sara.  "But, 
oh!  the  sight  of  him  as  he  disappeared — I  shall  see  him 
always."  And  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"Why  were  you  silent  before  the  officer?"  Riva  now 
took  courage  to  ask.  "He  was  the  man  to  speak  to,  and 
then  was  the  time.  When  he  said,  'Are  you  the  wife  of 
Hernani?'  I  made  sure  you  would  say  'Yes;  and  what 
of  him?  Is  he  unhurt?'" 

"How  could  I,  Riva?  You  forget  how  I  was  surround 
ed  by  men,  all  staring  at  me  as  though  I  were  a  savage, 
and  at  the  time  my  head  ringing  with  the  blow  I  had 
got." 

"The  brute!  I  wish  my  knife  had  entered  his  heart 
instead  of  his  arm,"  Riva  blazed  up.  "No — you  did  the 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  279 

best,"  she  added,  pursuing  her  subject;  "but  when  you 
see  him  again  you  can  ask  him  questions.  He  will  an 
swer  them.  I  saw  him  look  at  you,  and  I  know  what 
such  looks  mean.  You  can  ask  him  about  the  young  lady 
and  her  brother,  the  Count,  and  the  other  two  gentlemen. 
I  never  saw  them  towards  the  end.  I  never  set  eyes  on 
her — did  you?" 

And  the  two  women  went  on  talking,  occasionally 
fancying  they  heard  the  strangest  noises  and  were  per 
haps  about  to  become  the  victims  of  the  foulest  of  plots, 
yet  with  it  all  striving  to  take  heart,  comforting  each 
other  as  best  they  could,  but  securely  guarded,  as  the 
heavy  and  monotonous  tread  of  a  sentry  outside  their 
door  constantly  reminded  them. 


280  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

In  pursuance  of  his  instructions,  within  an  hour  of  his 
victory,  Suroff  had  despatched  a  courier  to  his  Excellen 
cy,  General  Hourko,  and  with  his  prisoners  secured  and 
the  wounded  looked  to,  awaited  the  reply,  which,  when  it 
came — after  a  lapse  of  more  than  forty-eight  hours — 
was,  in  the  main,  what  he  had  expected. 

The  whole  batch  of  prisoners  were  to  be  sent  to  differ 
ent  specified  fortresses — with  the  exception  of  the  two 
women,  with  whom,  after  giving  over  his  command,  he 
was  to  hasten  to  an  address  situated  within  a  few  miles 
of  the  Chateau  Villanov,  and  upon  the  direct  road  to 
Warsaw. 

Suroff  well  knew  that  the  place  mentioned  was  a  villa 
owned  or  rented  by  General  Hourko,  said  to  be  of  com 
fort,  even  elegance,  and  to  possess  conservatories,  where 
notable  specimens  of  orange,  pomegranate,  and  other 
beautiful  trees  flourished. 

"So  his  Excellency  meditates  a  little  relaxation,  I  im 
agine,"  he  told  himself  upon  the  receipt  of  these  orders. 
"Well,  I  don't  think  I  blame  him,  though  his  sharp-vis- 
aged  wife  will,  if  she  gets  to  know  of  his  doings.  He  can 
trust  me,  he  knows.  My  pay  will  come  in  medals  and 
promotion,  and  I  shall  get  both  for  this  clean  bit  of 
work."  And  Suroff  stroked  his  moustache,  and  allowed 
his  thoughts  to  wander  to  some  of  the  fair  sex  in  Peters 
burg  for  whom  he  owned  to  a  leaning,  and  then,  soldier 
like,  set  about  carrying  out  his  instructions  without  de 
lay. 

In  receipt  of  a  curt  order  to  hold  herself  in  readiness 
for  a  journey,  Sara,  who  was  still  in  ignorance  of  Her- 
narrl's  fate,  and'  felt  the  impossibility  of  leaving  the  farm 
without  doing  her  utmost  to  obtain  news  of  him,  seized 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  281 

the  opportunity  to  address  the  bearer  of  the  message — a 
soldier — whom  she  saw  for  the  first  time. 

"I  wish  to  speak  to  the  officer  in  command,"  she  said 
mildly,  and  in  her  most  persuasive  manner.  "Will  you 
please  give  him  that  message  for  me?" 

The  man  turned  upon  her  half  in  astonishment  and 
anger  at  receiving  such  a  request  from  a  prisoner,  but 
remembering  that  for  some  reason  she  was  treated  with 
distinction,  the  oath  and  the  point  blank  refusal  upon  his 
tongue,  were  changed  for  a  civil  assurance  that  the  desire 
should  be  communicated,  the  result  being  that  after  a 
while,  Suroff  himself  came  to  her. 

"I  am  told  that  you  have  something  to  say  to  me,"  he 
said,  barely  allowing  his  eyes  to  rest  upon  her  as  he 
spoke,  but  seeming  rather  to  prefer  to  look  about  the 
room,  or  at  Riva,  who,  with  the  best  intention,  had  with 
drawn  to  the  furthest  corner,  and  there  appeared  deeply 
engrossed. 

"Yes;  I  ventured  to  send  such  a  message,"  answered 
Sara,  inwardly  agitated  and  nervous,  now  that  she  really 
faced  this  man  whose  power  over  her  was  so  absolute, 
and  who  was,  she  felt,  intentionally  impervious  to  an  ap 
pealing  glance  or  a  trick  of  the  voice. 

"And  in  what  way  can  I  be  of  assistance  to  you?''  re 
turned  Suroff,  in  tones  which  before  Sara  preferred  her 
request,  impressed  her  with  the  hopelessness  of  it. 

"You  can  tell  me  what  has  become  of  my  husband," 
she  said,  with  startling  abruptness  and  energy,  as  though 
convinced  that  with  Suroff,  plain  speaking  would  weigh 
the  heaviest. 

For  the  instant  he  appeared  slightly  confused,  as 
though  the  directness  or  nature  of  the  assertion,  for 
which  he  should  certainly  have  been  prepared,  placed 
him  at  a  disadvantage.  Then  he  said — as  if  to  gain  time 
for  reflection,  or  to  soften  the  refusal  he  meditated — 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"Common  sense  tells  me.     Ah!  if  YOU  knew  how  I  suf- 


282  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

fer,  you  would  not  hesitate;  and  what  harm  could  it  do  to 
anyone?" 

"Probably  none." 

"Then  let  me  entreat  you,"  urged  Sara,  vaguely  con 
scious  that  if  he  would  but  look  at  her  she  could  win  her 
way  to  his  heart. 

Inclined  to  doubt  himself  under  the  circumstances, 
feeling  that  to  hesitate  was  to  be  lost,  and  that  he  had  to 
choose  between  a  chivalrous  desire  to  be  lenient  to  a 
woman  and  a  grave  doubt  as  to  how  far  wisdom  would 
support  him  in  the  act,  Suroff  said  firmly,  though  evident 
ly  against  his  will — 

"Duty  does  not  permit  me  to  grant  your  request.  If 
it  seemed  wise,  I  would.  There  are  few  harder  tasks  in 
life  than  to  know  when  to  be  silent." 

"You  refuse?" 

"Absolutely,  madam." 

"Then  that  is  all  I  have  to  say,  sir,"  answered  Sara 
calmly,  though  in  truth  despairingly. 

Suroff  bowed  as  politely  as  though  quitting  the  salon 
of  a  Duchess,  simply  because  it  was  natural  to  him  so  to 
do  when  dealing  with  a  woman,  and  Riva,  in  the  depths 
of  her  corner,  thought,  though  with  strange  laxity  of 
reasoning  considering  the  looseness  of  her  own  tongue, 
"The  young  man  is  right;  that  he  should  know  such 
things  is  why  he  is  where  he  is,  for  the  Book  says  wisely, 
'Silence  is  the  fence  round  wisdom.' " 

In  a  little  while  after  that,  conscious  of  being  crest 
fallen,  down-trodden  and  unfortunate  to  a  degree  past 
any  previous  experience  or  conception,  and  yet  dimly 
sensible  that  since  she  breathed,  all  was  not  lost,  Sara 
found  herself  seated  in  a  conveyance  not  more  comfort 
able  than  a  perekladnaia,  being  of  rough  country  build, 
muffled  in  wraps,  with  Suroff  at  her  side,  and  Riva  fol 
lowing  in  a  cart  packed  with  prisoners,  guarded  by  an  es 
cort  of  Cossacks. 

In  the  greatness  of  her  grief,  as  she  was  thus  forced 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  283 

away  from  the  Sicinski  farm,  and  as  she  looked  long  and 
wistfully  upon  it,  it  seemed  to  her  that  in  leaving  it  she 
was  leaving  him,  severing  the  last  link  that  bound  her  to 
him — Hernani,  whose  voice  still  rang  in  her  ears,  whose 
hands,  when  she  shut  her  eyes,  were  yet  upon  her  shoul 
ders — and  that  if  not  dead — and  the  awful  thought  would 
come — they  were  dead  to  each  other,  and  that  on  earth 
they  had  spoken  and  touched  for  the  last  time.  Through 
the  driving  sleet,  as  it  swept  over  her  in  gusts,  she  could 
dimly  discern  the  little  window  at  which  she  had  stood 
on  that  first  morning — hopeful,  strangely  so — and  the 
memory  of  it,  and  that  then  she  was  not  alone,  was  so 
cruel,  so  heartbreaking  a  mockery  of  the  suffering  she 
endured,  that,  proud  though  she  was  and  determined  to 
be  brave  in  the  presence  of  her  victorious  foes,  in  silent 
woe  she  hid  her  face. 

Throughout  that  long  sad  drive  Suroff  made  no  at 
tempt  to  speak  to  her,  but  muffled  to  the  very  tips  of  his 
ears  seemed  ignorant  of  her  existence,  save  when  the 
clumsy  vehicle  lurched  in  the  deep  ruts,  and  threatened 
to  pitch  them  bodily  into  the  snow,  when  he  evinced  in 
terest  enough  to  rouse  himself,  and  support  her  with  a 
strong  hand  until  the  danger  was  past. 

A  roadside  inn  sheltered  them  for  some  hours  while 
the  storm  was  at  its  height,  and  there  the  horses  were 
changed  and  a  less  comfortless  conveyance,  a  sleigh,  ob 
tained.  When  a  fresh  start  was  made,  part  of  the  escort 
with  the  half-starved  prisoners  in  charge,  branched  off  in 
another  direction,  and  soon  after,  they  had  rumbled  out 
of  sight,  jolting  in  the  carts,  and  some  of  them  screaming 
with  pain,  Sara  began  to  think  that  certain  features  of  the 
landscape  were  familiar  to  her.  Occasionally  she  felt 
positive  that  a  tiny  church  with  its  gilded  cross  and  green 
dome,  a  group  of  cottages,  multi-colored  from  dilapida 
tion,  the  shape  of  some  fields,  or  a  certain  peculiar  curve 
in  the  dusky  outline  of  a  pine  forest,  were  not  new  to  her; 
but  at  such  points,  exhaustion,  mental  and  physical,  pre- 


284  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

vented  her  from  troubling  her  head  more  than  to  won 
der.  Of  what  account  was  it  where  she  was  going,  since 
in  all  directions  she  was  equally  friendless  and  forlorn? 

The  bitter  wind  and  driving  sleet  had  chilled  her  to  the 
bone,  her  feet  were  like  icicles,  every  joint  in  her  body 
seemed  to  have  stiffened,  her  head  itself  was  benumbed 
and  like  lead,  with  a  dull  throbbing  ache  in  it  almost  in 
supportable.  The  severe  jolting  she  had  sustained  had 
shaken  her  to  pieces,  and  she  was  so  tired  that  she  could 
scarcely  sit  upright. 

In  such  a  condition  despair  might  well  lay  hold  upon 
her,  the  limits  of  her  endurance  having  been  reached. 
Feverish  and  overwrought,  her  mind  seemed  in  too  weak 
and  excitable  a  state  to  deal  lucidly  with  any  one  idea,  and 
yet  ideas  swarmed.  Visions  of  damp  and  noisome  dun 
geons,  such  as  she  knew  existed,  where  huge  and  loath 
some  rats  alone  could  thrive,  were  succeeded  by  recol 
lections  of  her  beautiful  and'  costly  home,  which  present 
ed  itself  instantaneously  in  all  its  details — of  Hernani — of 
her  barrenness — of  the  divorce  she  had  lived  under  the 
shadow  of — of  that  terrible  paper  in  General  Hourko's 
hands — of  his  passionate  glances  on  that  night  so  like  a 
nightmare  to  her — of  the  burning  words  he  had  poured 
in  her  ear;  and  then  with  startling  irrelevancy  she  leapt 
backward  over  years — she  was  again  in  Cracow — a  slip 
of  a  girl;  there  were  the  streets  she  knew  so  well — the 
door  of  her  home  ajar,  revealing  the  form  and  face  of 
her  father,  and  between  the  paroxysms  of  his  terrible 
cough  she  could  hear  voices,  lifted  in  altercation,  as  he 
repeated  his  oft-told  story  of  the  fortune  his  knowledge 
and  discoveries  would  one  day  bring.  The  very  tunes 
popular  at  that  date  pealed  from  the  street  organs,  and 
voices  shouted'  the  doggerel  lines  of  songs  just  then  the 
rage.  Oh!  they  were  all  so  cruelly  fresh  and  clear  to  her, 
those  myriad  recollections  of  that  long  and  fitful  dream 
which  was  her  life.  And  then,  as  though  at  last  worn 
out,  her  troubled  mind  became  a  blank,  and  she  no  longer 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  285 

possessed  the  power  to  conjure  up  those  panoramic  pic 
tures,  and  was  only  dreamily  alive  to  such  monotonous 
sounds  as  the  creaking  of  the  sleigh,  the  crunching  of 
the  snow,  which  had  become  crisp  with  frost,  and  an  oc 
casional  clear  ring  of  the  horses'  hoofs  as  some  hard  sub 
stance  was  struck. 

Suroff  was  still  impassive;  he  had  lit  a  fresh  cigar, 
which  glowed  as  he  smoked,  while  a  great  clear  moon 
peered  down  upon  them,  and  a  bird  croaked  as  it  was 
disturbed.  A  couple  of  turnings  were  taken,  the  last  a 
sharp  one,  and  through  tall  iron  gates  they  swung  into  a 
drive,  overhung  with  leafless  trees,  arriving  at  length  be 
fore  high  stone  columns,  flanking  the  entrance  to  a  villa, 
from  the  doorway  of  which  a  blaze  of  light  streamed  upon 
them.  Two  bulky  figures  in  somber  uniforms  stood  to 
their  arms  as,  shaking  the  snow  from  his  furs,  Suroff  rose 
to  his  feet,  and  then  Sara  understood  that  what  she  had 
dreaded  throughout— yet  would  not  hint  to  Riva — had 
come  to  pass,  and  that  she  was  in  General  Hourko's 
power. 

A  few  words  from  Suroff,  spoken  well  out  of  hearing, 
relieved  him  of  his  charge,  and  with  a  "Good-night, 
madam,"  and  a  careless  lifting  of  his  fingers  to  the  peak 
of  his  military  cap,  Sara  saw  him  disappear,  as  it  proved, 
for  ever  out  of  her  life. 

With  Riva  at  her  side,  and  in  silence  submitting  to  be 
conducted,  a  broad  flight  of  stairs  was  ascended,  a  corri 
dor  traversed,  and  a  suit  of  rooms  entered.  Here  there 
was  warmth  at  least,  and  luxury  and  tempting  food  at 
hand;  better  still,  there  was  privacy  for  the  instant, 
though,  as  Sara  sank  into  a  chair  with  a  furtive  glance 
round  the  walls,  she  suppressed  a  shudder  as  she  thought 
of  how  those  walls  might  yield  to  a  practiced,  unscrupu 
lous  touch,  for  aught  she  knew,  and  discover  her  help 
less  as  she  was. 

"Riva,"  she  said,  when  she  had  recovered  a  little  from 
her  exhaustion,  and  the  heat  from  the  stove  had  warmed 


266  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

and  set  her  blood  at  work — "Riva,  did  you  see  anything 
at  the  head  of  the  staircase  facing  the  statue  holding  the 
lamp  and  upon  the  wall  before  it?'' 

"Ach !  Yes — a  picture  in  a  big  gold  frame.  What  of 
that,  my  love?" 

"That  is  a  portrait  of  the  Governor — of  General  Hour- 
ko." 

"The  Holy  One  protect  us — of  the  great  Russian — 
then— 

"You  know  where  we  are." 

"God  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob — in  his  hands!  He 
of  whom  such  things  are  spoken,  and  who  has  shed  the 
blood  of  the  innocent!  Is  it  so?  Can  it  be?  Then  evil 
has  indeed  overtaken  us.  Oh!  My  lamb,  my  lamb — 
and  I  knew  it  all  along.  What  did  I  say — have  none  of 
him — that  was  my  counsel." 

Ignoring  the  censure,  strong  in  her  innocence,  Sara 
remained  silent  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  in  her  low 
sweet  voice  told  of  Hourko's  night  visit,  concealing 
nothing,  even  to  the  paper  in  his  possession,  ending  with 
the  demand — 

"What  do  you  advise?  Can  you  see  any  way  out  of 
this  trap?  What  is  to  be  done?" 

"What  can  you  do?"  answered  Riva,  after  having  com 
mented  upon  the  disclosures  in  her  own  quaint  way. 
"Here,  as  in  the  world,  might  is  right.  He  will  lay  hands 
upon  you — you  will  be  sacrificed — 

"Lay  hands  upon  me!"  interrupted  Sara,  with  the  in 
dignant  gesture  of  a  very  Queen  of  Tragedy.  "I  can 
strike  him  dead  should  he  dare."  And  as  though  to  draw 
some  hidden  weapon,  her  hand  sought  her  bosom. 

Riva  now  appeared  calmness  itself,  but  it  was  the  calm 
born  of  terror.  She  laughed  hysterically  and  spoke  fast 
as  though  without  control. 

"Oh! — ah! — strike  him  dead — that  is  good!  Rut  not 
here — and  for  you — you  would  be  taken  and  cut  in  pieces 
with  the  knout,  and  your  body — think  of  it — your  body 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  287 

would  be  flung  to  the  dogs  of  the  street!  Strike  him 
dead?  No — there  must  be  nothing  of  that.  What  says 
the  law?  'All  that  a  man  hath,  will  he  give  for  his  life.' 
And  you — you  are  young,  without  a  wrinkle,  beautiful 
and  with  the  plumpness  of  youth.  Ah!  life  is  sweet,  my 
love." 

"Not  to  me,  Riva.  Every  hope  that  it  contains  is  cen 
tered'  in — in — 

"Ah!  yes — the  master.     I  know — I  know." 

"You  are  right,  and  as  though  to  punish  me  for  loving 
aught  but  God  so  much,  here  am  I  without  news  of  him. 
Even  now,  at  this  moment,  he  may  be  lying  dead  in  some 
vile  pit  into  which  these  monsters  have  flung  him;  or, 
if  not  dead,  immured  in  some  foul  dungeon,  where  is 
neither  warmth  nor  light,  and  where  the  atmosphere 
breeds  death.  But  this  is  yielding  to  weakness — help  me, 
Riva — help  me  to  take  heart,  like  a  good  soul,  for  upon 
me  everything  depends;  in  me  the  last  hope — our  last 
hope — his  and  mine — is  centered.  So  you  thought  me 
strange  when  I  kept  my  own  counsel,  and  pretended  that 
I  was  happy." 

"You  never  deceived  me.  To  my  eyes  you  were 
wretched." 

"Ah!  you  know  me  so  well.  You  understand.  But 
the  tide  of  my  life  sets  from  bad  to  worse;  this  is  worse 
than  that,  for  that  was  happiness  compared  with  this.  Yet 
I  felt  strong  then,  as  though,  were  I  put  to  it,  I  could  do 
much;  yes,  then  at  the  worst  I  felt  strong;  now  I  know 
that  I  must  be  so,  and  what  I  have  to  do  seems  shaping 
in  my  head.  When  beset,  I  should  be  brave;  else  it  were 
better  I  were  nothing.  Riva,  how  strange  life  is,  and 
how  many  are  its  lessons,  in  the  forefront  of  them  being 
contentment  and  endurance.  We  would  give  something 
for  the  old  Cracow  days  at  this  moment.  I  had  not  suf 
fered  then,  and  yet  I  thought  I  was  a  martyr;  but  then, 
too,  I  had  not  loved.  Ah!  a  physical  ill  is  nothing  to  a 
mental  one;  remedies  may  mend  the  one,  but  a  genuine 


288  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

sickness  of  the  other  is  incurable.  Cut  we  must  face  all 
this  and  fight  through  it.  1  feel  my  spirits  rise  at  thought 
of  struggling  more.  Riva,  look  to  the  door — the  one 
with  the  spring — you  will  find  it  locked,  I  think.  They 
will  shut  us  off  from  the  rest  of  the  house,  and  confine 
us  securely  by  means  of  it.  How  tired  I  feel,  and  sore 
from  head  to  foot,  as  though  I  had  been  beaten  with 
sticks.  Well — is  it  locked?  I  thought  so.  Now  for  the 
walls.  A  while  back  i  should  never  have  thought .  of 
making  a  mental  plan  of  a  house  in  mounting  a  stair 
case,  or  of  examining  a  room,  as  though  each  chair  or 
cupboard  concealed  a  bomb,  each  picture  or  panel  a  se 
cret  door;  but  now  my  inquisitiveness  must  be  humored 
if  my  eyes  are  to  close.  It  cannot  be  called  taking  pre 
cautions,  for  what  precautions  are  possible?  Still,  it 
eases  one's  mind  to  peer  into  cupboards,  beneath  beds,  or 
behind  curtains;  all  of  which  proves  one,  after  all,  to  be 
but  little  better  than  an  overgrown  child.  No;  so  far  as 
I  can  see,  there  is  nothing  suspicious,  and  yet  the  very  at 
mosphere  is  charged  with  evil.  Now  listen  to  my  sum 
ming-up  of  the  situation,  Riva. 

"We  are  in  one  or  other  of  the  Governor's  summer 
residences,  not  a  great  way  from  Warsaw — I  am  sure  of 
that;  there  is  an  armed  guard  outside,  and  within,  a  man 
and  woman — man  and  wife,  I  should  say,  who  are  faithful 
and  discreet,  and  who  have  been  told  to  supply  our  wants 
and  prevent  our  escape.  We  have  apartments  en  suite — 
a  luxuriously-furnished  sitting-room  and  two  bedrooms, 
the  smallest  of  which,  I  should  say,  has  done  duty  as  an 
ante-room.  In  all  probability,  in  fact,  these  are  his  Ex 
cellency's  private  apartments.  We  now  await  the  great 
event,  his  Excellency's  approach,  which — 

"Ach!  you  are  clever,"  interrupted  Riva. 

"Clever?  No;  I  am  stupid  to  a  degree  or  I  should  not 
be  here." 

"Stupid!  The  mind  wears  the  body  out,  and  it  is  so 
with  you,  my  lamb.  All  this  talk  comes  of  excitement; 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  289 

though  who  can  blame  you?  You  need  rest,  or  you  will 
be  ill.  Ach!  your  hand  is  like  a  live  coal,  your  cheeks 
aglow,  and  your  eyes  aflame.  You  are  in  a  fever.  I 
know  it — I  know  it.  Am  I  not  your  nurse,  your  own  old 
Riva  who  has  rocked  and  sung  you  to  sleep  in  the  days 
when  your  mind  was  a  blank?  Ah!  you  can  tell  me 
nothing.  You  must  have  rest  and  warmth.  Come,  let 
me  see  you  get  it;  let  me  ease  you  of  the  boots  and  the 
clothes.  The  little  feet  will  be  cold,  like  unto  stones,  and 
must  be  chafed,  and  I  shall  watch  by  you  that  no  harm 
may  come  near." 

"It  is  good'  of  you,  Riva,  but  how  can  I  rest?  I  can 
recall  too  plainly  the  face  of  the  great  Russian,  as  you  call 
him,  and  that  strange  visit  at  dead  of  night,  of  which  I 
have  told  you.  How  I  hate  him!  People  talk  of  beauty 
and  sigh  for  it;  it  is  easy  for  beauty  to  prove  a  curse." 

"Yet,  if  you  were  like  me,  wrinkled  and  yellow  as  a 
skin  ill-cured,  where  would  this  night  have  found  us?" 

"One  may  pay  too  dearly  for  safety,  Riva." 

"Ah!  well,  my  lamb,  then  such  a  price  must  never  be 
paid." 

And  there  in  those  big  rooms,  bearing  the  subtle 
marks,  not  so  much  of  wealth  as  of  refinement  and  cul 
ture — in  loneliness,  with  the  shadow  of  unknowable  dis 
asters  hanging  over  them — they  gradually  ceased  talk 
ing,  Riva  flitting  about  as  though  of  india-rubber  rather 
than  of  flesh  and  blood;  attentive,  gentle,  seeming  alike 
unconscious  of  ill  or  of  fatigue,  so  long  as  her  love,  her 
lamb,  the  apple  of  her  eye,  was  beside  her.  And  so  the 
hours  sped,  and  the  cold  increased,  and  the  snow  fell 
pitilessly,  no  news  coming  to  them  whether  of  good  or 
ill. 

To  demean  herself  by  questioning  the  stern-visaged 
attendants,  never  occurred  to  Sara,  and  no  good'  could 
have  come  of  it,  seeing  that  they  were  a  sour-faced  pair 
— it  seemed,  fanatically  devoted  to  the  interests  they 
served.  So  there  was  little  else  to  be  done  but  wonder 

19 


2QO  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

and  wait,  and  try  to  shape  plans  and  actions  for  that  fu 
ture  which  seemed  profoundly  dark  and'  even  terrible  in 
its  obscurity. 

As  for  the  manner  of  her  conduct  towards  the  Gov 
ernor  when  he  should  burst  upon  her,  at  one  moment 
Sara  fancied  she  saw  her  way  clear,  and  could  handle  him 
to  a  nicety,  holding  him  at  a  good  arm's  length;  but  in 
the  next  hour,  ignorance  of  the  man,  doubts  of  herself, 
of  her  will  and  wit,  doubts  of  all  things  concerning  her 
condition,  clouded  her  mind. 

Some  days  thus  sped,  in  bewilderment,  monotonous 
speculation  and  torturing  anxiety — at  least  to  Sara,  for 
whom  it  had  been  well,  had  her  mind  been  duller,  her 
nerves  less  sensitive — at  the  end  of  which  time,  and  un 
heard  by  her  or  Riva,  isolated  as  they  were,  came  a  tink 
ling  of  silver  sleigh  bells  over  the  crisp  white  snow,  as, 
drawn  by  coal-black  horses  of  that  famous  breed  of 
which  the  Orloffs  were  so  proud,  the  Governor,  Ivan 
Nicholaevitch  himself  arrived. 

What  a  bustle  there  was,  what  a  running  to  and  fro, 
and  homage  and  hypocrisy  on  the  part  of  all  concerned; 
in  return  for  which  the  great  man  replied  with  placid 
indifference  or  harsh  contempt,  a  flinging  aside  of  his 
furs,  and  an  imperious  call  for  tea  with  lemon  shredded 
in  it,  after  which  came  an  appeal  to  the  eternal  cigarette. 
The  tea  would  stimulate  and  create  warmth.  He  would 
recover  himself  from  the  chilling  effects  of  the  drive,  then 
he  would  dine  well,  and  then — he  would  send  for  Sara. 
That  was  the  programme  he  sketched  out,  as  in  a  cosy 
arm-chair,  drawn  close  to  the  stove,  he  warmed  himself, 
stretching  forth  his  hands,  stamped  by  the  time  which 
had  whitened  his  hair  and  grizzled  his  moustache. 

He  was  in  a  triumphant  mood,  as  well  he  might  be, 
according  to  his  reckoning  of  things ;  for  had  not  his  wife 
— the  jealous  and  exacting  Olga  Pavlovna — disgusted 
with  the  increased  cold — shivering,  hating  it — disgusted 
with  the  failure  of  her  schemes  for  capturing  and  humil- 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  2QI 

iating  Sara — disgusted  also  with  PopolofFs  imbecility  or 
perfidy — at  length  beat  a  swift  retreat  towards  the  sun 
shine,  the  flowers  and  the  swallows ;  trusting  to  the  bitter 
cold  of  the  forests,  to  exposure  and  want,  for  that  ven 
geance  upon  one  whom  she  chose  to  consider  as  an  inso 
lent  and  unscrupulous  rival.  And  had  not  Popoloff  been 
detected  in  the  committal  of  acts  of  long-suspected 
treachery,  and  was  not  the  General,  Ivan  Nicholaevitch, 
waiting  and  watching  patiently,  until  it  should  seem  good 
to  him  to  punish  his  unworthy  servant;  above  all,  was  not 
Sara  actually  under  the  same  roof  with  him,  and  could 
he  not  summon  her  or  go  to  her,  as  might  please  him? 
And  as  to  that,  he  would  eat  well  and  then  he  would  see ; 
but  upon  that  frost-bound  winter  evening,  he  was  cer 
tainly  master  of  the  situation  upon  all  points,  and  none 
could  have  disputed  it. 

In  such  a  mood  there  was  danger  in  Hourko,  it  would 
be  thought — danger  in  any  member  of  that  large  class 
described  as  unscrupulous.  So  as  the  cold  increased,  and 
the  stars  flashed  clearer  as  the  night  aged,  with  heavy 
curtains  drawn  and  fuel  fresh  upon  the  stove,  the  Gen 
eral  sat  erect  in  his  chair,  his  fine  chest  eased  by  the  loos 
ing  of  his  tunic  buttons,  his  decorations  glittering,  not  a 
hair  awry  in  his  waxed  moustache,  and  upon  his  face  a 
benign  smile  of  satisfaction. 

Before  him  were  the  remnants  of  delicacies,  while  a 
costly  wine  sparkled  in  his  glass.  He  was  not  rich,  and 
his  debts  were  huge,  but  he  lived  as  his  rank  demanded ; 
moreover,  for  him  a  gala  night  had  arrived.  He  hic 
coughed  a  time  or  two  and  finished  his  wine,  then  he 
drank  his  coffee,  and,  having  lighted  a  cigar,  addressed 
his  servant  harshly,  as  though  that  servant  were  a  mu 
tinous  dog.  In  that  stately,  masculine  language,  the 
Russian  tongue,  he  gave  some  orders,  then  with  digni 
fied  carriage  he  passed  beneath  the  half-drawn  folds  of 
an  embroidered  curtain  and  entered  another  apartment. 
He  had  sent  for  Sara. 


292  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

When  the  message  came  to  her,  Sara  bit  her  lip  and 
turned  pale,  and  old  Riva  stifled  a  little  scream  and  pro 
tested'. 

"See  him  here,  my  lamb,  and  you  will  be  wise.  I  am 
but  an  old  woman,  yet  should  you  wish  for  me  I  am  at 
hand." 

But  Sara  knew  better.  For  the  weak  there  could  be 
but  one  course — to  appear  strong.  So,  woman-like, 
looking  to  her  beauty  even  at  that  pass,  she  followed  at 
the  heels  of  her  conductor,  appearing  on  her  way  down 
the  staircase,  and  upon  her  entry  into  the  General's  pres 
ence,  refined  and  dignified,  as  suffering  will  refine  and 
dignify,  being  God's  own  marking  of  His  creatures' 
faces.  What  if  the  simple  black  dress  which  had  pro 
tected  her  from  jibes  and  insults  in  Warsaw,  and  done 
service  at  the  Sicinski  farm,  were  worn  and  shabby? 
Does  the  light  of  the  eye,  the  sheen  of  the  hair,  and  the 
delicate  tinting  of  the  fair  cheek,  need  a  fine  setting  or 
ornamentation?  If  so,  Sara  had  none,  but  stood  before 
Hourko  with  the  simplicity  and  easy  dignity,  which, 
coupled  with  her  beauty,  had  attracted  him  at  first,  when, 
with  Popoloff  and  the  aide-de-camp  on  either  side  of 
her,  she  had  been  brought  before  him  at  the  palace. 

The  General  looked  imposing  and  substantial,  as  he 
stood  with  his  back  to  the  stove  in  his  favorite  attitude; 
for  his  years  he  appeared  even  handsome,  with  his  keen 
blue  eyes,  his  red  square-jawed  face,  and  heavy  cavalry 
moustache.  But  in  Sara's  sight  these  perfections  did 
not  exist.  She  only  saw  before  her  a  rugged  unscrupu 
lous  soldier,  to  whom  the  shedding  of  innocent  blood  was 
easy,  who  had  pursued  and  hunted  her  down — a  tyrant, 
in  short. 

It  was  Hourko's  passing  intention  to  avail  himself  of 
all  the  advantages  and  power  of  his  exalted  rank,  and 
from  that  lofty  pinnacle  to  impress  and  bend  Sara  as  he 
wished;  so  with  this  idea  he  greeted  her  sternly  with 
a — 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  293 

"Madam,  we  meet  once  more,  and  this  time  beneath 
my  own  roof." 

Without  reflecting  a  second  Sara  answered  boldly, 
"The  shelter  of  which  has,  I  need  scarcely  remark,  been 
forced  upon  me." 

"True;  and  had  it  not  been  so  you  would  have 
starved  in  the  forests,  as  others  who  have  revolted  are 
doing,  or  been  left  to  languish  in  a  fortress.  You  will 
remember  how  I  told  you  that  you  would  need  a  friend; 
well,  it  is  so  now  more  than  ever,  for — 

"I  believe  you,  sir." 

"For  the  account  against  you  and  yours  has  swollen." 

"Excellency,  I  am  aware  of  my  condition,  but  could  a 
wife  do  less  than  I  have  done?" 

"You  have  judgment,  you ': 

"I  have  used  it.  If  my  debt  to  the  Government  of  this 
country  is  so  heavy,  my  liberty  or  my  life  must  go  to 
discharge  it." 

"That  is  what  will  probably  happen,"  replied  Ivan 
Nicholaevitch  grimly;  "but,"  he  added  as  he  looked 
down  upon  her,  seated  as  she  was  in  a  chair,  "it  is  my 
desire  to  prevent  such  a  reckoning." 

"Then  I  may  look  upon  your  Excellency  as  the  friend 
you  said  you  were,"  she  answered,  eager  to  gain  a  point. 

"I  am  proving  it." 

"Will  your  Excellency  be  good  enough  to  tell  me 
how?" 

"I  have  rescued  you  from  imprisonment." 

"But  only  to  imprison  me  here." 

"Only  to  keep  you  out  of  harm's  way.  Are  you  not 
supplied  with  every  comfort?  You  have  only  to  ask  to 
be  satisfied.  Are  my  people  attentive  to  you?" 

"I  cannot  complain." 

"Then  what  is  amiss?  In  the  present  disturbed  state 
of  affairs,  safety  is  worth  having.  There  are  thousands 
who  would  give  sacks  of  rubles  to  be  in  your  place.  You 
are  not  thankful  enough." 


294  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Excellency,  it  is  not  for  me  to  argue  with  you.  I 
am  only  a  simple-minded  woman,  loving  honesty  and 
candor,  and  being  untaught  in  the  ways  and  windings 
of  the  world'.  I  understand  nothing  of  finesse;  there 
fore  this  I  frankly  tell  you — if,  as  you  assure  me,  you  are 
a  friend  to  me,  I  have  cause  to  be  grateful,  and  shall  not 
forget  to  be  so,  but  I  must  beg  you  to  prove  it,  and  satis 
fy  me  that  your  sentiment  towards  me  is  nothing  worse. 
I  hold  that— 

"By  all  the  Saints — such  spirit  and  such  language — 

"Sir,  my  language  is  not  meant  to  give  offense  and  is 
merely  a  straightforward  rendering  of  my  thoughts;  as 
for  my  spirit,  it  is  not  yet  crushed.  Would  you  have  it 
so?  The  punishment  with  which  you  have  threatened 
me — Siberia — 

"Punishment — Siberia — pooh!  Let  us  talk  pleasant 
ly.  With  your  beauty — 

"Better  women  have  gone  and  died  there." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that.  But  you  need  fear  nothing, 
only  you  must  be  reasonable." 

"I  can  only  be  myself,  Excellency." 

"And  a  very  sweet  self — a  self  to  which  I  am  inclined 
to  be  devoted." 

"Words  will  not  hurt  me,  sir." 

"No;  but  I'm  prepared  to  prove  mine." 

"I  will  ask  you  rather  to  prove  your  consideration  for 
me  by  modifying  them.  In  addressing  you  Excellency, 
I  shall  always  remember  that  a  strong" — Sara  would  not 
say  brave — "and  honorable  man  cannot  take  advantage 
of  a  weak  and  defenseless  woman,  but  as  a  test  of  the 
friendship  that  your  Excellency  has  professed  for  me, 
will  you  favor  me  with  news  of  my  husband — of  Kasi- 
mir  Hernani?" 

Hourko  took  a  turn  or  two  in  front  of  her,  his  steps 
always  bringing  him  back  to  the  same  point,  the  stove; 
then  unconsciously,  though  feeling  disappointed  and  ir 
ritated,  he  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette.  Had  Sara  cringed 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  295 

before  him,  or  shown  sign  of  fear  or  weakness,  his  course 
would  have  been  simple.  He  would  have  taken  good 
care  to  work  on  and  develop  such  symptoms,  but  by  her 
simple  self-reliance  and  confidence,  springing  perhaps 
from  the  love  and'  consciousness  of  the  right  she  pro 
fessed,  she  disarmed  him.  A  twinge  which  had  hurt 
him  before  pained  him  again,  the  twinge  being  the 
thought — not  new — that  in  the  flesh,  before  him,  there 
was  an  upright  woman,  upon  whom,  moreover,  rank,  or 
wealth,  or  bribery  of  any  kind  would  pass  as  the  water 
over  the  coral  of  the  deep  sea,  leaving  it  fairer  and  purer 
for  the  contact.  In  his  young  days  he  might  have  dis 
missed  such  reflections  successfully — he  had  silenced 
his  conscience  so  often — but  to  his  annoyance  he  now 
found  them  difficult  to  get  quit  of.  As  to  Hernani — 
why  should'  he  not  tell  her  the  truth,  watching  her  face 
so  as  to  estimate  the  depth  of  her  affection  for  him,  now 
that  his  ruin  was  complete? 

"He  was  taken  prisoner,"  he  said  slowly,  stationing 
himself  before  her  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face. 

"Yes,"  said  Sara,  without  eagerness,  as  though  listen 
ing  to  a  pleasing  story,  and  wishing  him  to  proceed — 
"yes,"  she  repeated  softly,  for  she  instinctively  divined 
his  intention,  and  was  guarding  even  the  quiver  of  an 
eyelash. 

"He  was  found  to  be  wounded,  and " 

"Is  he  dead?"  she  asked,  in  a  perfectly  natural  voice, 
which  actually  startled  Hourko  into  thinking  her  either 
indifferent  or  the  most  perfect  actress  he  had  ever  met. 
He  reflected  for  an  instant.  If  her  affections  were  not 
involved,  as  he  had  thought,  to  threaten  or  promise  to 
aid  Hernani  would  avail  him  little. 

"No,"  he  said,  removing  his  gaze  to  knock  the  ash  off 
his  cigarette,  and  as  quickly  glancing  at  her  again,  in 
the  hope  of  effecting  a  surprise — "no;  his  wound  was 
slight,  and  when  I  last  heard  of  him  I  seem  to  remember 


296  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

that  he  was  doing  well.  But  I  may  be  mistaken.  There 
are  so  many  things  to  think  of." 

"God  of  my  Fathers,  how  I  thank  Thee!1'  Sara  thought, 
but  with  only  a  natural  pause  she  said' — 

"Was  that  long  ago,  Excellency?  Can  you  remem 
ber?" 

"Quite  recently,  I  think,  but  I  will  inquire  if  you  wish 
— which  is  another  proof  of  my  friendship." 

Sara  smiled,  and  the  smile  thrilled  through  Hourko, 
who,  as  he  felt  the  sensation,  half  cursed  himself  for  the 
weakness. 

"And  yet,"  he  argued  silently,  "the  woman  is  mine. 
She  can  never  escape  me  now.  Still,  if —  Ah!  he 

was  irritated. 

"Thanks,'1  murmured  Sara.  "Where  is  he,  sir?"  she 
ventured  to  ask  a  moment  later. 

His  temper  ruffled,  Hourko  turned  upon  her  sav 
agely. 

"Madam,  he  is  safe  in  a  fortress,  where  he  is  likely  to 
remain,  and  where  it  seems  you  would  like  to  join  him. 
You  can  easily  be  accommodated,  I  assure  you.  There's 
lots  of  room — at  present,"  he  added  darkly. 

Feeling  that  her  only  chance  with  this  man  was  to 
show  no  sign  of  fear,  Sara  said  boldly — 

"If  it  should  be  my  lot  to  be  immured  in  a  prison,  I 
shall  hope  for  the  courage  to  endure  it,  though  it  has 
pleased  your  Excellency  to  tell  me  that  I  am  too  good  for 
such  a  fate." 

"And  so  you  are!"  exclaimed  Hourko,  for  the  instant, 
as  frank  and  simple  as  a  boy. 

"Then  I  will  not  think  of  it  just  now,"  answered  Sara 
calmly.  "Will  your  Excellency  give  me  further  details, 
and  tell  me  of  the  fate  of  Count  Dorozynski,  of  his  sis 
ter,  and  of  the  tv/o  brothers,  the  Counts  Goroski?" 

Hourko  hesitated  momentarily.  In  reality  he  was  be 
coming  more  and  more  astonished  at  Sara's  bearing. 
"There  is  no  understanding  these  women,"  he  thought 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  297 

to  himself.  "I  might  be  the  delinquent  in  some  meas 
ure,  by  the  way  she  speaks.  By  all  the  Saints,  she  is 
taking  me  to  task;  but  then,  she  is  beautiful,  which  is 
a  free  pass  to  such  license."  Aloud  he  said,  "I  will  en 
deavor  to  do  so.  According  to  the  report  made  by  Major 
Suroff,  one-half  of  the  force  opposed  to  him  was  de 
stroyed,  the  remainder  were  taken  prisoners.  Count 
Andrew  Dorozynski  was  killed,  and  so  was  his  sister. 
She  was  shot  while  masquerading  in  a  man's  attire, 
which  was  brave,  in  one  sense,  but  foolish  in  anoth 
er —  Sara  interrupted  him  with  an  exclamation  of 
wonderment. 

"What!   you  are  surprised?"  he  inquired. 

"Very." 

"You  did  not  see  her  in  such  disguise?'' 

"No." 

"Where  were  you?" 

"Excellency,  I  was  attending  to  the  sick  and  wound 
ed." 

"Which  more  womanly  occupation  probably  saved 
your  life.  Do  you  know  that  I  was  anxious  about  you, 
and  that,  had  I  known  what  was  going  on,  you  would 
never  have  left  Warsaw.  You  were  in  my  thoughts 
when  I  despatched  Surof¥  with  the  troops.  Do  you  be 
lieve  me?" 

"Excellency,  I  do  not  know." 

"You  doubt  my  word?" 

Sara  thought  a  moment.  She  was  playing  a  desperate 
game.  She  might  anger  the  man.  Was  it  wise  to  risk 
so  much?  In  an  instant  of  time  she  weighed  her  chances 
and  formed  her  decision. 

"Has  your  Excellency  given  me  no  cause?" 

Ivan  Nicholaevitch  was  electrified.  No  one  ever  dared 
to  question  him;  yet  within  his  own  walls — helpless — 
in  his  power,  this  Jewess  as  good  as  told  him  that  he 
had  lied  to  her.  His  eyes  flashed  dangerously,  but  they 
encountered  Sara's  truthful  and  steady  gaze,  which  never 


298  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

quailed  before  his  angry  glance.  He  was  going  to  ful 
minate  threats  on  the  instant,  the  words  actually  trem 
bling  on  his  tongue.  But  somehow  he  could  not — he 
hesitated — this  was  a  woman — and  one  who  had  never 
lied  as  he  had;  whose  purity  compared  with  his  was 
what  the  driven  snow  is  to  the  dust-heap — who,  in  fact, 
in  all  ways,  was  different  to  his  Petersburg  women,  who 
had  always  flung  themselves  at  his  head.  Besides,  he 
had  lied  to  her  systematically;  his  conscience,  which  was 
not  dead  nor  sleeping  at  this  crisis,  told  him  that.  She 
was  right  enough  to  censure  him,  since  he  had  placed 
her  in  a  position  to  do  so,  but  it  was  intensely  annoying, 
and,  after  all,  whatever  he  had  done  had  been  for  her 
sake. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  stammered. 

"Excellency,  I  will  tell  you.  You  found  out,  or  else 
you  knew,  that  my  sympathies  were  enlisted  in  favor  of 
those  of  my  persuasion;  that  among  them  I  had'  labored 
in  my  small  way,  and  unasked,  you  promised  me  your 
support." 

"Well?" 

"And  you  had  no  intention  of  giving  it,  or  showing 
any  favor  to  my  co-religionists." 

"No." 

"And,  Excellency,  you  expect  me  to  credit  your  state 
ments  after  such  an  admission?" 

"Yes,  when  you  know  that  all  I  did  then,  and  all  I 
have  done  since,  was  because  of  my  regard  for  you.  Yes, 
I  put  it  stronger — my  love  for  you,  Sara." 

"Oh!  I  am  to  understand,  then,  that  the  sentiment 
your  Excellency  entertains  for  me  is  love,  not  friend 
ship?" 

"Yes — love,"  repeated  Hourko;  and  before  Sara  could 
prevent  him  he  had  his  arm  about  her,  and  would  have 
pressed  his  grizzled  moustache  to  her  lips,  had  she  not 
sent  him  spinning  backward  with  an  energy  that  aston 
ished  him. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  299 

''Listen  to  me,"  she  said,  sinking  again  into  her  seat, 
breathless  but  calm — "listen  to  me.  Is  that  the  way  an 
officer,  representing  his  Imperial  Majesty  the  Tsar, 
should  treat  a  woman,  who  in  the  first  place,  is  dragged 
into  his  presence  for  the  sole  crime  of  having  tried  to 
succor  the  starving?" 

"By  the  God  above  us,  you  will  madden  me!"  cried 
Hourko,  in  a  voice  like  the  growl  of  a  wild  beast.  "I 
have  but  to  ring  this  bell  and — 

"I  shall  be  on  my  way  to  Siberia  by  etape,"  Sara  inter 
rupted  with  reckless  courage.  "Do  so — I  am  not  afraid. 
I  have  already  been  there  mentally — and,  I  may  add 
truthfully,  through  your  threats.  You  have  deceived 
me  by  word,  and  in  writing;  you  have  tracked  me,  and' 
had  me  spied  upon;  at  dead  of  night  I  have  not  been 
safe  from  you;  to  further  your  purposes  you  have  had 
me  smuggled  beneath  your  roof,  and  now  you  offer  me 
physical  insults  under  assurances  of  friendship.  There  is 
a  right  and  a  wrong,  as  the  God  whose  name  you  have 
used  is  judge,  and  because  I  am  right  and  know  it,  I 
have  had  the  courage  to  speak  to  you  as  I  have  done. 
Leave  me  alone,  Excellency;  lay  no  hand  upon  me; 
drive  me  forth  into  the  snow  as  you  would  a  dog,  rather 
than  doom  me,  a  woman,  to  that  most  fatal  degradation, 
loss  of  self-respect." 

Colorless  as  though  dying — having  risen  to  her  feet 
in  her  agony  of  excitement — Sara  stood  with  flashing 
eyes  and  parted  lips,  panting  for  breath. 

Never  a  word  was  spoken  for  some  second's,  and  in 
the  room,  there  was  never  a  sound,  save  the  ticking  of 
an  ormolu  clock,  a  crackle  in  the  stove,  as  the  fuel  sank, 
Sara's  breathing,  and  at  length,  the  creak  of  the  Gen 
eral's  varnished  boot,  as  he  moved  slightly.  Then,  he 
spoke — dropping  his  words  like  bullets. 

"Madam,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  you  are  a  sin 
gularly  fine  person.  I  will  say  more — a  remarkable  one; 
also,  that  you  have  the  best  of  the  argument,  if  I  may 


300  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

so  style  it — women  usually  have — on  the  other  hand,  I, 
Ivan  Nicholaevitch,  have  the  best  of  the  situation.  I 
admire  your  views,  and  they  have  a  certain  weight  with 
me;  but  you  are  so  delightful,  so  adorable,  that  you 
will  have  to  adopt  mine,  otherwise,  the  chances  for  you 
as  suggested,  are  much  in  favor  of  Siberia  by  etape.  But, 
what's  up?  What's  the  matter?  Are  you  ill?  By  all 
the  Saints !" 

In  the  heat  of  his  fear,  without  reflecting,  he  sprang 
to  the  bell  and  sent  peal  after  peal  through  the  house. 
The  servants  rushed  in.  Sara  looked  ghastly.  Like 
fools,  these  menials  stood  inactive — looking. 

"Go  and  get  some  restoratives,  wine,  cognac,  any 
thing,"  roared  Hourko.  "Do  you  hear — you  sheep 
heads?"* 

The  sound  of  his  hated  voice,  distant  and  singing  in 
her  ears,  though  it  seemed,  made  the  alarm  a  false  one. 
With  the  aid  of  her  pride  and  a  prodigious  effort  of  will, 
Sara  recovered  herself,  and  Ivan  Nicholaevitch,  thinking 
that  he  had  been  too  harsh,  and  being,  in  truth,  more 
affected  by  Sara's  words  than  he  cared  to  own,  tried  to 
make  amends  and  headway,  by  what  he  deemed  atten 
tion  and  kindness.  With  all  the  wit  he  had,  he  turned 
the  conversation  into  other  channels,  and  finally,  hav 
ing  exhausted'  the  last  moment  of  leisure  at  his  disposal, 
he  resumed  his  furs,  flung  himself  into  his  sleigh,  and 
more  intoxicated  than  ever  with  the  passion  her  beauty 
had  inspired  in  him,  tore  back  to  Warsaw,  telling  him 
self  that  he  had  obtained  a  clearer  insight  into  her  char 
acter  that  night,  and  that  he  would  conquer  her  by  kind 
ness,  if  not,  by  threats,  but  that  conquered  and  his,  she 
should  be. 

Other  food  for  reflection  and  speculation,  as  well  as 
occasion  for  energetic  resolutions,  if  not  actions,  would 
have  been  supplied'  to  him,  had  he,  Ivan  Nicholaevitch, 


*  Russian  expression. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  3OI 

paid  a  visit  to  his  villa  at  noon  of  the  next  day;  also  his 
eyes  would  have  opened  wider  had  they  lighted  upon 
the  ungainly  figure  of  Titus  Prokofievitch  Popoloff ;  Ti 
tus  himself,  who  was  there  with  his  colorless,  inscrutable 
face,  polishing  his  spectacles  leisurely  as  of  old,  and 
using  them  to  peer  at  his,  Ivan  Nicholaevitch's,  trusted 
dependents,  with  whom  he  appeared  to  be  on  the  best 
of  terms.  This  in  itself  was  curious,  but  then,  Mr.  Sec 
retary  Popoloff  was,  in  his  way,  a  curious  man,  and  had 
so  many  strings  to  pull  to  enable  him  to  keep  in  touch 
with,  and  know  everything,  as  was  his  proud  boast,  and 
then  also,  officialism  has  occasionally  proved  corrupt. 

When  Sara  rejoined  Riva,  no  sooner  had  the  door  shut 
and  left  them  alone  together,  than  Riva's  old  arms  were 
extended  at  sight  of  her  mistress,  and  so  great  had  been 
the  strain  upon  Sara  that  she  straightway  fell  into  them, 
exclaiming  as  she  swooned: — 

"Riva,  he  is  alive — he  is  alive!" 


302  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

The  beginning  of  Titus  PopolofFs  loss  of  influence 
had  dated  from  the — to  him — unlucky  day  when  Sara 
had'  been  brought  before  Hourko.  His  attempt  to  serve 
two  masters  had  begun  to  fail  from  that  moment,  and 
one  is  bound  to  admit  that  it  could  scarce  have  been 
otherwise.  However,  acting  unscrupulously  as  was  his 
wont,  he  had  made  money  for  himself  throughout,  and 
if  destined  to  lose  prestige  with  Hourko  at  the  rate  at 
which  it  had  of  late  deserted  him,  he  had  decided'  that 
he  had  a  mind  to  pursue  his  old  tactics. 

If  kudos  and  the  advancement  he  coveted  were  as  far 
off  as  ever,  it  was  still  open  to  him  to  employ  his  talents 
in  the  acquiring  and  storage  of  rubles. 

In  Cracow,  awhile  back,  adherents  of  the  revolution 
ary  movement  had  agreed'  to  the  establishment  of  a  Dic 
tatorship,  and  as  a  fit  occupant  of  that  post,  had  nomi 
nated  General  Maryan  Langiewicz.  It  had  followed  that 
Langiewicz  had  become  Dictator,  had  won  a  battle  or 
two,  which  had  helped  his  cause  in  no  way,  that  the  Rus 
sian  Government  had  offered  fifty  thousand  rubles  for 
his  head,  finally  that  his  force  had  been  dispersed,  and  he 
himself  imprisoned  in  an  Austrian  fortress,  having 
crossed  the  frontier  into  Austria  in  the  company  of  his 
romantic  and  beautiful  aide-de-camp — so  styled  by  cour 
tesy — Miss  Pustowoitow — daughter  of  a  Russian  Gen 
eral.  These  historical  facts  were  ancient  history  to  Pop- 
oloff.  His  knowledge  extended  further,  for  he  knew  that 
with  the  setting  of  General  Langiewicz's  bright  particu 
lar  star,  the  back  of  the  revolution  had  been  broken,  a 
death-blow  to  it  dealt.  He  knew  that  the  peasantry  had' 
been  converted  by  the  government  into  a  kind  of  brutal 
police,  armed  with  bill-hooks,  axes,  any  weapon  that 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  303 

came  to  hand,  that  he  himself  had  borne  his  part  in 
bringing  this  about,  and  that  in  consequence,  the  landed 
proprietors — without  whose  support  the  revolutionary 
movement  would  dwindle  and  die — were  actually  being 
brought  into  the  towns  in  their  own  carriages,  their 
hands  having  been  tied'  by  their  own  peasants.  With 
affairs  at  such  a  pass,  what  was  to  be  done?  His — Pop- 
oloff's — pay,  was  a  mere  pittance,  compared  with  what 
he  could  earn  by  the  judicious  sale  of  information;  so 
he  promptly  continued  the  selling  of  it.  He  had  audi 
ences  of  that  mysterious  group  of  personages,  who,  after 
General  Langiewicz's  overthrow,  had  hastened  to  resume 
the  supreme  authority,  calling  themselves  the  Provision 
al  National  Government.  Thanks  to  his  villainy  and 
that  of  others,  resolutions  were  made  known,  while  the 
ink  upon  the  paper  recording  them  was  scarce  dry.  The 
disposition  of  the  Russian  forces,  the  convoying  and 
safe  conduct  of  arms  and  provisions,  were  thus  antici 
pated  and  intercepted. 

It  had  now  come  to  pass,  that  Titus  Popoloff,  in  the 
restlessness  of  his  mind,  had  conceived  a  fresh  project, 
which  stood  commended  to  him,  by  reason  of  its  easy 
accomplishment,  the  slight  risk  attaching  to  it,  and  the 
money  it  would  bring  him.  In  furtherance  of  the 
scheme,  he  had  appeared  at  the  villa,  and  there  sounded' 
the  minds  of  the  Governor-General's  servants.  His 
next  step  was  to  present  himself  at  the  Citadel,  where, 
as  he  well  knew,  Hernani  was  confined.  It  was  perfectly 
easy  to  him  to  gain  admittance  to  that  strong  fortress, 
and  with  a  little  judicious  bribery,  to  effect  an  entrance 
into  the  cold  damp  cell  which  doomed  Hernani  to  inac 
tion  and  despair.  Once  within  it,  and'  by  way  of  answer 
to  Hernani's  mute  expression  of  inquiry,  he  said  ab 
ruptly:  "Come — I  have  news  for  you." 

"News?"  was  the  tired  reply  from  this  man,  who  had 
been  all  fire  and  energy  but  awhile  back. 

"Yes,  news,  and  of  a  pleasant  kind,  if  you  choose  to 


304  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

make  it  so.  Ah!  I  see;  the  damp  walls  and  the  solitude 
are  already  having  their  effect.  Your  face  is  as  color 
less  as  that  of  a  ghost,  and  your  hair  is  turning  white." 

This  was  true  enough,  but  there  being  no  friendship 
between  them,  and  not  trusting  his  visitor  wholly, 
though  they  had  had  dealings,  Hernani  answered  sharp 
ly  enough: 

"Pass  on  to  your  point.     Give  me  the  news." 

"Fifty  thousand  rubles  is  a  good  deal  of  money," 
mused  Popoloff. 

"What  of  it?"  inquired  Hernani,  irritated  by  the  fa 
miliar  manner  and  brusque  bearing  of  the  man. 

"It  was  offered  as  a  reward  for  the  person  of  General 
Maryan  Langiewicz." 

"With  what  result?" 

"That  he — I  won't  say  owing  to  the  reward,  though 
— is  safe  in  an  Austrian  fortress." 

There  was  something  terribly  pathetic  in  the  dignified 
silence  with  which  Hernani  received  this  crushing  blow 
to  what  remained  to  him  of  hope  that  his  cause  would 
prosper,  but  it  was  not  until  some  seconds  had  elapsed 
that  he  found  the  words  and  the  courage  to  answer 
quietly. 

"Is  that  the  news?" 

"No,  I  am  coming  to  it,"  answered  Popoloff  with  pro 
voking  calmness. 

"Well,  I  am  listening." 

Popoloff  carefully  removed  his  spectacles,  then,  with 
the  habitual  rub  from  his  silk  handkerchief,  set  them 
upon  his  nose  again.  There  was  no  trace  of  his  usual 
obsequiousness.  Hernani  was  no  longer  the  influential 
banker  and  merchant  prince,  but,  to  his  way  of  think 
ing,  a  ruined  man.  So  he  could  afford  to  be  curt  and 
brutal,  as  is  the  way  with  such  people. 

After  a  dead'  silence  of  some  moments  he  again  spoke. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said,  "since  the  information  I  gave  you 
in  the  Saxonski  Sad  concerning  your  wife,  coupled  with 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  305 

other  little  transactions,  your  faith  in  me  is  established, 
is  it  not?" 

Hernani  almost  smiled  as  he  riveted  his  eyes  upon 
his  questioner. 

"I  have  faith,"  he  smiled  grimly,  "go  on." 

"That  is  well." 

"Why?" 

"You  will  have  need  of  it." 

"How  so?" 

"Because,  without  my  assistance,  you  are  lost,  doom 
ed." 

"That  is  a  pleasant  assurance." 

"It  is  a  true  one — is  it  not?" 

"Perhaps;  as  yet  I  am  unable  to  judge.  How  do  you 
propose  to  help  me,  and  so  avert  this  doom?" 

"You  are  brave,  my  friend." 

This  time  Hernani  did  smile. 

"I  can  lay  claim  to  nothing  more,  now,"  he  replied 
bitterly,  "but,"  he  added,  recovering  himself  quickly,  "to 
be  helped  would  be  interesting.  Let  me  hear  what  you 
propose  to  do." 

"I  will  tell  you.  It  depends  upon  you.  First,  you 
must  have  faith  in  me,  and  must  do  as  I  direct;  in  addi 
tion,  you  must  have  one  hundred  thousand'  rubles.'' 

The  mention  of  business  kindled  a  little  animation  in 
Hernani's  face;  for  the  instant,  he  forgot  what  he  had 
come  to,  and  remembered  only  what  he  had  been. 

"How  am  I  to  lay  hands  on  such  a  sum,  shut  up  here?" 
he  enquired. 

"There  is  no  necessity  for  you  to  touch  it.  I  will  un 
dertake  to  do  that,"  replied  Popoloff  facetiously,  "your 
hand  set  to  paper,  will  be  sufficient.  You  Jews  help 
each  other  so  well.  You  have  but  to  write  to  a  friend, 
and  that  friend  through  a  friend's  friend,  will  bring  me 
good  hard  cash,  to  our  little  spot  in  the  gardens,  at  any 
time  and  date  we  may  agree  upon.  Is  it  not  so?" 

"Possibly.    But  what  am  I  to  obtain  in  exchange?" 

20 


306  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"Your  liberty." 

"Is  that  all?" 

"Is  that  all,  my  friend?  Take  care;  what  do  you 
mean?  Is  that  not  enough  for  such  a  sum,  may  I  ask?'' 

A  listless  expression  stole  over  Hernani's  fine  face. 
He  was  weary — intensely  so. 

Confinement  and  the  breakage  of  his  hopes  had  al 
ready  told  upon  him. 

"No,"  he  said  bluntly. 

"Why?" 

"Because  the  bargain  does  not  tempt  me." 

Popoloff  was  silent.  He  coughed  violently,  patted  his 
chest  as  though  confident  of  his  strength  and  proud  of 
its  hollowness,  and  then,  with  his  thin  knees  touching, 
and  his  pale  shifty  eyes  searching  Hernani's  face,  he  de 
cided  regretfully  to  play  his  big  trump. 

"Suppose  I  throw  in  your  wife?"  he  said  slowly. 

"My  wife?"  repeated  Hernani,  excited  enough  now. 

"Yes." 

"What  do  you  know  of  her?" 

"Everything." 

"Everything?" 

"Yes." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"Within  twenty  miles  of  you." 

"Is  she  unhurt?" 

"Yes." 

"And  in  health?" 

"Gently,  my  friend;  let  us  go  gently,  and  above  all, 
let  us  be  business-like.  You  will  appreciate  me,  I  know, 
being  the  soul  of  business.  I  repeat,  suppose  I  threw 
in  your  wife?" 

Hernani  was  silent.  The  animation  had  fled  from  his 
face  as  quickly  as  it  had  come.  Popoloff  watched  him 
inquiringly.  Shrewd  Russian  though  he  was,  he  was 
puzzled.  Then,  after  a  little  reflection,  he  thought  he 
understood.  He  would  probe. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  307 

"She  is  quite  near  to  you,"  he  repeated. 

"Starving  in  some  foul  prison,  I  suppose?"  said  Her- 
nani,  turning  pale  at  the  thought. 

"On  the  contrary,  she  is  living  in  luxury." 

"What  do  you  mean — a  prisoner  and  in  luxury?" 

"A  prisoner!     I  never  said  so." 

"What  have  you  to  say  then?"  demanded  Hernani, 
struggling  to  control  his  rising  anger. 

"As  little  as  possible  until  we  come  to  our  bargain.'' 

"Bargain — is  that  it?  Don't  trifle  with  me,  upon  such 
matters,  or  by  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and'  Jacob, 
you  will  drive  me — 

Popoloff  retreated  a  step  before  Hernani's  advance 
and  threatening  air. 

"All  right,"  he  said.  "I  have  no  desire  to  trifle.  You 
shall  know  all  I  have  to  tell  you." 

"Where  is  my  wife?  In  whose  hands  is  she?"  thun 
dered  Hernani,  as  dread  and  suspicion  laid  hold  upon 
him. 

"The  Governor's." 

"The  Governor's,"  he  repeated  as  though  he  did  not 
understand,  though  the  vague  and  horrible  fear  of  such 
a  calamity  had  already  entered  his  head.  Recovering 
himself  with  an  exclamation  of  rage,  he  leaped  to  Popo- 
loff's  side. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  again  thundered,  while  if 
his  glances  could  have  slain,  Popoloff  had  been  dead. 

That  astute  individual  backed  a  pace  or  two,  mur 
muring,  "Ah!  as  I  thought — jealous,"  as  placidly  as 
though  ordering  vodka  in  a  cafe. 

"What  did  you  say?"  stammered  Hernani,  as  though 
the  man's  knowledge  of  his  thoughts  deprived  him  of 
breath. 

"It  is  all  right,  my  friend'.  You  need  say  no  more.  I 
will  save  you  the  trouble.  You  are  jealous  of  his  Ex 
cellency  the  Governor,  who  has  no  doubt  given  you 
cause.  I  will  explain.  Mind,  it  may  be  mere  conjecture 


308  HERNA:-:I  THE  JEW. 

on  my  part,  still,  you  may  credit  me  with  being  neither 
blind  nor  deaf.  From  your  manner  a  moment  ago,  1  am 
convinced  that  you  arc  offended  with  your  wife,  that  a 
man  is  the  cause,  and  from  what  I  know,  and  what  I 
don't  know,  but  assume,  I  give  it  as  my  opinion  that  the 
man  is  the  Governor  himself." 

"And  if  so?" 

Popoloff  was  silent,  "Unless  I  say  all  I  know  about 
the  woman,"  he  thought,  "and  I  know  nothing' against 
her,  my  plan  will  fall  through.  He  will  do  nothing,  con 
sequently,  there  will  be  no  money  to  be  got." 

"Well,  if  so,''  he  exclaimed  at  length,  "it  happens  that 
I  am  in  a  position  to  clear  her  character  completely. 
You  wrong  her." 

"Oh,  that  I  had  shot  her  in  the  barn,"  thought  Her- 
nani. 

"You  wrong  her,"  repeated  Popoloff,  "His  Excellency, 
it  is  true,  was  mad  about  her,  but  she  loathes  him  as  I 
am  a  witness,  having  been  present  at  their  first  inter 
view,  and  knowing  what  has  happened  since." 

"You  present,  you  know  what  has  happened?" 

"Yes,"  said  Popoloff,  and  told  the  whole  story,  stick 
ing  to  the  truth,  where  it  suited  him;  finally  adding, 
"now  what  are  you  going  to  do,  that's  the  question?" 

"I  must  think.  Give  me  time.  You  have  sprung  so 
much  upon  me.  Let  me  think.  Why  did  you  not  tell 
me  this  when  I  was  free?  I  would  have  made  you  rich. 
How  long  has  she  been  in  the  power  of  this  man?" 

"Oh!   not  long." 

"Not  long — how  long?  Was  she  taken  there  by 
force?" 

"By  the  neck,  as  you  were  brought  here." 

"How  am  I  to  know — 

"Oh,  suspicious  again,  eh!  Curse  suspicion.  Put  it 
away  from  you.  Yon  need  have  none  of  it." 

"My  good'  man,"  exclaimed  Hernani,  irritably,  "you 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  309 

imagine  too  much.  To  be  suspicious  of  you,  would  be 
natural  enough.  There  my  suspicion  ends." 

"You  were  green  with  jealousy  a  moment  ago.  What 
does  that  mean?  Jealousy  and  suspicion  are  pretty  close 
friends.  But  there — I  am  not  here  to  argue.  Splitting 
hairs  does  not  interest  me  and  is  fatiguing.  I  am  off. 
Your  dainty  morsel  may  stay  where  she  is.  Is  that  the 
way  of  it?  She  won't  long  remain  dainty." 

Hernani  raised  his  hand,  the  veins  in  his  forehead 
swelled.  Popoloff  very  nearly  received  his  fist  full  in  his 
face.  But  he  controlled  himself  once  more. 

"Will  you  swear  to  the  truth  of  what  you  have  told 
me?"  he  asked'  as  soon  as  he  could  speak  calmly. 

"Yes.  I  swear  it.  On  your  part,  will  you  swear  that 
the  sum  of  one  hundred  thousand  rubles,  shall  be  paid 
me  by  your  agent,  on  condition  that  I  effect  your  escape 
and  that  of  your  wife?" 

"Yes.  It  shall  be  paid  to  you,  once  we  are  clear  of 
the  frontier." 

"No,  no." 

"Once  we  are  clear  of  the  frontier,"  repeated  Hernani. 

Popoloff  smiled  craftily. 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  "we  won't  quibble  over  trifles. 
I  will  come  to  you  again  shortly,  and  we  will  decide 
upon  a  date  for  the  money  to  be  paid  over.  The  place 
shall  be  where  we  met  in  the  gardens.  Will  that  suit?" 

"Perfectly." 

"Good!  Then  meantime  I  will  arrange  matters;  pass 
ports,  disguise,  horses,  everything.  Wait  patiently.  That 
is  all  you  have  to  do.  But  I  was  forgetting.  Here  is 
ink  and  paper;  write  to  your  wife  instructing  her  to 
obey  me.  I  am  going  to  her  at  once.  She  might  deem 
me  an  impostor  and  perhaps  raise  an  alarm,  unless  my 
credentials  were  clear." 

Hernani  took  the  paper,  and  looked  at  the  pen  which 
Popoloff  had  taken  from  his  pocket  and  pieced  together. 
It  was  a  terrible  moment  for  him.  What  should  he  do? 


3IO  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

An  hour  ago  he  had  not  known  that  Sara  was  alive.  He 
had  been  tortured  by  the  most  cruel  doubts  concerning 
her.  Now  he  was  told  that  she  wras  well,  within  a  few 
miles  of  him,  yet  in  Hourko's  power;  and  suddenly  he 
was  asked  to  write  such  a  paper  as  could  proceed  only 
from  his  hand,  that  she  might  do  whatever  the  bearer  of 
it  might  direct. 

Popoloff  saw  the  look  of  perplexity,  of  hesitation, 
even  of  dread,  which  Hernani  at  that  instant  took  no 
pains  to  conceal;  and  he  gave  vent  to  a  harsh  little 
chuckle,  which  said  plainly  enough:  "Look  here,  my 
friend,  I  understand  your  feelings.  But  I  have  no  sym 
pathy  for  you — you  only  amuse  me." 

Amidst  a  dead  silence,  Popoloff  snapped  the  spring  of 
the  pocket  ink  bottle  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  a  time 
or  two;  then  he  put  it  down  on  the  wretched  bed  that 
was  all  Hernani  had  to  sit  or  lie  upon;  finally,  he  took 
to  cracking  the  knuckles  of  his  thin  bony  fingers,  in  a 
manner  habitual  to  him;  at  length,  tired  of  that  trick, 
he  exclaimed  irritably — 

"Look  here,  my  friend,  you  seem  to  forget  that  not 
content  with  keeping  me  waiting,  you  openly  doubt  me. 
You  are  a  business  man,  and  a  shrewd  one,  let  me  put 
it  to  you.  I  want  one  hundred  thousand  rubles.  You 
are  willing  to  pay  the  sum.  I  mean  to  earn  it.  That  is 
the  only  bond  between  us.  That  we  are  not  total  stran 
gers  may  appeal  to  you,  but  there  is  the  plain  sum  and 
substance  of  the  contract.  Were  I  in  your  position,  I 
should  jump  at  such  a  chance,  and  so  would  anybody." 

Hernani  dipped  the  pen  in  the  ink.  He  had  decided 
how  to  act,  and  stooping  down  began  to  write.  Yet,  as 
the  words  were  swiftly  formed,  he  reflected  that  Popo- 
loff's  visit,  offer,  and  suggestion,  might  be  a  ruse  of 
Hourko's,  for  some  purpose  not  clear  to  him.  How 
ever,  with  him,  a  decision  was  final,  so  he  signed  the 
note  with  a  term  of  endearment,  invented  by,  and  known 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  311 

to  Sara,  then  handed  it  to  Popoloff,  who  took  it,  and  after 
a  remark  or  two  not  worth  recording,  left  him. 

Once  clear  of  the  Citadel  and  alone,  Titus  PopolofFs 
real  feelings  cropped  to  the  surface.  He  held  soothing 
converse  with  himself  as  he  went  his  way,  "one  hundred 
thousand  rubles.  I  shall  get  it,  but  they  will  not  get 
their  liberty.  That  is  how  it  will  be.  Jews!  faugh! — 
how  I  hate  them!" 


312  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Meanwhile,  affairs  at  the  palace  shaped  painfully.  The 
Governor-General,  Ivan  Nicholaevitch,  had  begun  to 
think  himself  an  ill-used  man.  The  reasons  for  such  feel 
ings  being  that  his  responsibilities  were  varied  and  irk 
some,  that  the  insurrection  still  flickered  on,  and  could 
not  be  got  to  go  out,  its  broken  character  and  hydra- 
headedness  rendering  decisive  action  a  lengthy  and  dif 
ficult  business;  also  that  as  is  the  case  with  exalted  per 
sonages,  Ivan  Nicholaevitch  was  fenced  about  by  jeal 
ousies,  intrigues,  Petersburg  instructions  of  conflicting 
purport,  and  Petersburg  doubts  and  suspicions.  There 
was  some  talk  of  the  great  man's  recall;  not  that  such 
talk  was  new  or  meant  more  than  it  had  hitherto  done, 
but  amidst  all  this  clamor  of  tongues,  one  thing  was  cer 
tain,  that  Ivan  Nicholaevitch's  temper  was  not  on  the 
mend.  Domestic  affairs  were  growing  to  trouble  him 
more,  and  might  be  said  to  be  straining  towards  a  break 
age,  since  his  wife,  Madam  Olga,  wrote  threateningly 
from  out  the  sunshine  to  which  she  had  fled,  and  was 
aided  and  abetted  in  so  doing  by  a  strong  band  of  rela 
tives,  who,  being  in  high  favor  with  his  Imperial  Ma 
jesty  the  Tsar,  had  it  well  within  their  power  to  do  him 
injury. 

Then,  too,  in  the  matter  of  Sara,  he  had  made  no  head 
way.  For  a  spell  of  weeks,  he  had  patiently  pursued 
the  kind  tack,  under  the  impression  that  with  a  woman 
of  Sara's  temperament,  coercion  would  be  useless.  He 
had  torn  himself  from  his  duties,  and  had  rushed  to  her 
side  at  headlong  speed,  assuming  the  attitude  and  con 
duct  of  an  ardent  but  honorable  lover;  the  result  being, 
that  after  such  interviews,  he  had  galloped  back,  dis 
turbed,  inflamed,  disappointed,  but  no  nearer  the  pos- 


HERN  AMI  THE  JEW.  313 

session  of  his  baffling  paragon  of  beauty.  When  the 
urgency  of  his  business  had  prevented  his  personal  at 
tentions — which  had  happened  for  days — scarce  one  had 
passed  without  some  recognition  from  him  of  her  near 
presence  and  his  interest  in  her.  Flowers,  delicacies, 
even  jewels,  had  arrived  at  the  villa,  and  had  been  re 
ceived  by  Sara  with  indifference,  coupled  with  a  fear, 
which  was  accentuated  by  the  sight  of  each  package  or 
costly  bouquet — for  were  they  not  signs  of  the  deep- 
rootedness  of  the  man's  evil  passion,  of  the  unalterable- 
ness  of  his  resolution  concerning  her?  Poor  Sara!  she 
saw  them  with  pallor  and  a  beating  heart,  an  inward 
sense  of  sickness,  swimming  of  the  head,  positive  loath 
ing.  Each  one  seemed  to  say  aloud  to  her,  "I  have  come 
to  remind  you  that  as  a  woman,  born  of  woman,  you 
must  yield  and  be  dragged  to  the  depths.  Circumstances 
are  against  you.  In  the  end,  you  will  succumb,  you  will 
see."  Even  Riva,  being  of  commoner  clay  and  looser 
morals,  dreading  doubt  and  danger  and  coveting  luxury 
and  rest,  had  begun  to  hint  at  the  justifiableness  of 
weakness  under  given  conditions,  and  to  remark,  that 
Ivan  Nicholaevitch  had  his  good  qualities,  as  his  con 
duct  latterly  had  proved. 

At  which  dark  suggestions,  after  ignoring  patiently, 
then  with  gentleness  correcting,  Sara  had  grown  angry, 
and  forbidden  the  mention  of  such  matters. 

Such  being  a  brief  summary  of  the  situation,  Ivan 
Nicholaevitch,  though  at  a  critical  pass,  state  telegrams 
thundering  upon  him,  consigned  them  to  the  devil,  and 
himself  to  the  road,  his  historical  team  of  blacks  clatter 
ing  beneath  the  now  budding  lime  trees  of  the  Avenue 
at  top  speed,  bearing  him  to  the  villa,  and  what  in  his  bad 
mood  he  had  resolved  should  be  an  understanding  with 
Sara. 

As  though  to  foster  and  compel  this  inevitable  crisis — 
Sara,  though  in  reality  pale  from  lack  of  exercise  and 
fresh  air,  and  sleepless  from  anxiety — had,  to  Hourko's 


314  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

mind,  never  looked  lovelier.  In  describing  her  after 
wards — for  he  had  good  reason  to  remember  that  inter 
view — he  affirmed  that  her  beauty  was  such  "that  it  de 
prived  him  of  speech." 

He  had  dined  as  was  his  custom.  Sara  had  sung  to 
him,  exercising  herself  the  while,  as  to  how  to  wear  the 
time  away  until  the  moment  of  his  departure.  From  the 
corners  of  her  eyes  she  had  watched  him  as  he  had  hov 
ered  about  her,  and  had  shrunk  and  shuddered  as  he  had 
caressed  her  hair,  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulders,  and 
with  firm  fingers  encircled  her  arm.  So  nervous  had  she 
gradually  become,  that  being  able  to  endure  his  distress 
ing  proximity  no  longer,  and  in  obedience  to  a  sudden 
impulse,  she  ceased  playing  and  sprang  off  the  music- 
stool. 

"What  did  you  do  that  for?''  he  asked  instantly. 

"I  am  tired,"  she  faltered. 

"Nonsense,  play  a  little  longer." 

"I  cannot." 

Hourko's  pent-up  wrath  found  outlet. 

"But  you  must." 

Standing  there  facing  him,  Sara  opened  her  beautiful 
eyes  wide,  wonder  and  alarm  shining  in  them.  Her  at 
titude  displayed  the  grace  and  symmetry  of  her  figure 
to  perfection,  and  in  that  lightning-like  instant,  the  sight 
of  it  increased'  Hourko's  disappointment  as  well  as  his 
passion. 

"Curse  it,"  he  went  ori,  brutally,  losing  all  control  over 
his  tongue,  "you  shall  do  as  I  tell  you.  Do  you  under 
stand?  I  have  played  the  fool  long  enough.  Do  you 
suppose  I  am  going  to  keep  you  in  luxury,  load  you 
with  presents,  and  dance  attendance  upon  you  into  the 
bargain,  for  nothing?  I  can  be  kind  and  considerate 
enough  and  listen  to  all  your  fine  ideas — whereby  you 
keep  me  at  a  distance — so  long  as  they  do  not  weary  me ; 
but  I  will  have  my  way  with  you,  as  I  have  given  you 
to  understand." 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  315 

Still  in  front  of  him,  still  standing,  Sara's  attitude  was 
so  haughty  and  repellent,  yet  withal,  so  womanly — as 
though  she  were  grieved  as  well  as  shocked — that  Hour- 
ko,  regretful  of  his  anger  on  the  instant,  softened  his 
speech. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "I  did  not  mean  that,  quite.  But  I 
am  harassed  on  all  sides,  and  from  you  I  expect  a  little 
kindness.'' 

"Excellency;  gratitude,  which  I  have  a  right  to  give, 
is  yours." 

"But  how  far  does  it  extend?" 

"To  thanking  you  for — 

"To  shrinking  from  me." 

"Certainly  not  to  obeying  you  in  the  matter  of  playing, 
with  all  due  respect  to  you;  though  such  an  unreason 
able  attitude  strikes  me  as  being  a  little  like  a  man." 

Hourko  winced  and  was  silent,  while  Sara  prepared 
herself  for  the  mischief  which  she  instinctively  felt  was 
coming,  and  waited  for  him  to  speak.  There  was  to  be 
a  struggle,  very  well,  it  should  be  of  his  making." 

"A  little  like  a  man;  why  should  you  sneer  at  men?" 
he  at  length  asked. 

"Excellency,  I  do  not." 

"Then  what  do  your  words  imply?" 

"That  I  know  what  is  unreasonable  and  must  be 
amused  when  I  encounter  it." 

"By  all  the  Saints,  I  shall  be  unreasonable  in  a  way 
that  will  not  amuse  you,  if  you  goad  me  to  it." 

"I  goad  you;  I  have  no  other  wish  than  to  please 
you." 

"Then  do  so." 

"But  I  cannot  hear  you  speak  of  gifts  and  attentions, 
without  reminding  you  that  I  ask  for  neither  of  them. 
My  only  request  is — 

"What?     Don't  let  it  be  unreasonable.'' 

"It  is  that  you  will  grant  me  my  liberty.  Let  me  leave 
this  place,  as  I  entered  it." 


3l6  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"For  the  streets.     To  beg?" 

"Yes." 

"Unprotected?" 

"No  one  would  harm  me." 

"You  think  that?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it." 

"Oh!    you  have  droll  ideas.'' 

"I  should  find  friends,  or  at  worst,  should  die." 

"Highly  romantic,  but,  pardon  me,  distinctly  absurd. 
Why  should  you  die?  When  people  consider  themselves 
unfortunate,  they  invariably  talk  of  dying.  My  experi 
ence  is,  that  when  worst  off,  they  live  the  longest.  No, 
you  would  not  die,  and  you  would  not  even  be  allowed 
to  beg,  but  you  would  be  arrested  and  locked  up,  you 
would  be  at  the  mercy  of  men  who  would  neither  be 
friend  nor  pity  you  at  a  time  like  this.  No,  make  your 
mind  easy,  I  know  what  is  best  for  you  too  well  to  let 
you  go." 

"It  is  cruel." 

"Cruel!  you  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about. 
I  should  be  brutal,  were  I  to  do  as  you  ask.  Listen— 
during  those  moments  when  you  have  spoken  most  con 
siderately  and  our  thoughts  have  mingled  best,  you  have 
hinted  at  being  unhappy  with  your  husband.  Is  it  not 
so?" 

"No." 

"Then  what  am  I  to  understand?" 

Sara  hesitated.  She  had  feared  lest,  having  Hernani 
in  his  power,  he  should  seek  to  influence  her  through 
him,  in  some  way,  so  had,  wisely  as  she  thought,  though 
vaguely,  alluded  to  the  tie  between  them  as  a  slight  one. 
She  did  not  know  what  answer  to  make,  being  directly 
taxed,  and  Hourko  repeated  his  question  without  taking 
his  eyes  off  her. 

"Nothing,"  she  said  at  length. 

"Nothing;  a  regular  woman's  answer.  However,  I 
think  I  understand  you.  Still,  I  am  in  a  generous  mood, 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  317 

and  I  want  you  to  be  clearly  aware  that  my  affection  for 
you  is  a  genuine  one,  that  you  attracted  me  from  the 
first,  that  I  have  risked  a  public  and  private  scandal  as 
well  as  other  dangers  on  your  account,  and  that  I  have 
never  changed  in  the  slightest  degree  towards  you.  Have 
I?" 

"Excellency,  you  are  very  good,  and  I  am  indebted  to 
you  for  such  homage,  you  who  are  surrounded  by  so 
much  beauty,  but —  Sara  paused,  despising  herself 

for  her  attitude  towards  the  man,  for  dissembling,  when 
she  so  loathed  him. 

"But  what?"  he  demanded. 

"How  can  I  compel  myself  to  like  you,  when ' 

"Well?" 

"When  I  should  hate  you,  were  our  relationship  what 
you  would  wish?" 

"Nonsense!  My  devotion  to  you  would  win  the  day; 
and,  Sara,  believe  me,  I  am  devoted.  I  would  sacrifice 
ambition,  relatives,  everything,  for  you.  I  recognize  the 
fact  that  I  shall  never  again  meet  with  a  woman  capable 
of  inspiring  me  with  affection  as  you  have  done." 

"But,  Excellency,  we  are  neither  of  us  free." 

"That  does  not  lessen  my  power  to  protect  you.  I  can 
offer  you  safety,  comfort,  even  luxury — all  that  you  need 
wish  for." 

"No  honest  woman  would  accept  such  a  position." 

"Accept  such  a  position!  Wouldn't  they!  Now,  by 
all  the  Saints,  you  try  my  patience.  I  have  stooped  to 
plead,  now  hear  my  other  argument.  You  have  not  for 
gotten  the  paper  found  in  your  house?" 

"No!" 

"I  have  it  still." 

"I  thought  so." 

"By  your  own  handwriting  you  prove  your  treachery 
to  his  Imperial  Majesty's  Government.  Is  it  not  so?" 

"So  you  say!" 

"Very  well;   that  paper  shall  be  handed  to  the  police, 


3l8  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

and  with  it  yourself,  together  with  what  comments  it  may 
please  me  to  make,  unless — well — unless  you  consent  to 
my  proposals." 

"Then,  Excellency,"  answered  Sara,  wrought  to  such 
a  pitch  that  she  was  calm,  "you  had  better  label  me  with 
that  paper  and  your  remarks,  and  hand  me  over  to  your 
myrmidons." 

"You  still  refuse?" 

"Absolutely!" 

"At  the  same  time,  be  it  understood,  you  doom  your 
husband  either  to  lifelong  imprisonment  or  ignominious 
death." 

"How?"  gasped  Sara,  horror-stricken. 

Hourko  saw  his  advantage.  He  had  cunningly  kept 
his  strongest  argument,  his  worst  and  most  cruel  threat, 
until  the  last. 

"If  you  accept  my  offer,  and  are  to  me  all  I  wish,  you 
cannot  suppose  that  those  who  have  cared  for  and  pro 
tected  you,  shall  be  allowed  to  suffer  as  I  have  described. 
Be  all  I  ask,  and  I  will  take  it  upon  me  to  see  that  your 
husband  shall  go  free.  He  shall  be  escorted  over  the 
frontier,  and  shall  write  from  a  place  of  safety  in  such 
a  way  as  to  prove  the  worth  of  my  promise.  Now  think, 
and  think  well,  for  I  am  not  to  be  trifled  with.  You 
have  it  in  your  power  to  save  your  husband  from  death, 
or  worse,  a  living  death  in  the  mines.  What  is  it  to  be?'' 

Confident  of  his  advantage,  by  reason  of  the  effect  of 
his  words — already  anticipating  her  reply — his  eyes 
gleaming  with  passion,  Hourko  stood  over  her. 

It  was  a  terrible  moment.  In  the  death-like  stillness 
of  the  room,  terror  and  despair  seemed  to  deprive  Sara 
of  the  power  of  speech.  She  could  hear  the  loud  full 
beat  of  her  heart,  and  her  tongue  clung  to  her  mouth. 
What  should  she  do? 

To  that  terrible  frightened  heart-beat,  there  was  sud 
denly  added  another  sound,  and  that  one  audible  to 
Hourko,  nay,  growing  more  audible  each  instant.  It 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  319 

was  that  of  a  horse  stretched  out  at  the  gallop;  in  fact, 
approaching  the  villa  by  way  of  the  avenue. 

"Hark!  What  is  it?"  he  exclaimed.  Then  as  it  drew 
nearer,  "Ah !  an  aide-de-camp ;  and  at  this  hour.  Some 
thing  has  occurred.  I  shall  have  to  go.  Come!  your 
answer  before  I  leave.  When  we  meet  again  my  prom 
ise  will  be  fulfilled — and  he  will  be  free." 

As  in  a  mist,  half  swooning,  deprived  of  the  time  and 
strength  to  think  clearly,  Sara  could  only  repeat  to  her 
self,  "I  have  it  in  my  power  to  save  him — from  awful  suf 
fering — perhaps  from  death.  Can  I  hesitate?  He  may 
not  love  me,  but  I — it  is  the  chance  I  have  longed  for 
always — to  prove  my  love.  Let  me  think?" — and  Her- 
nani's  last  words,  so  often  repeated  by  her,  rang  in  her 
ears,  "The  Holy  One,  He  will  have  you  in  His  charge." 

The  clatter  of  hoofs  had  stopped.  A  bell  pealed 
through  the  house.  Hourko  left  the  apartment,  and  re- 
entered  it  with  a  dispatch  in  his  hand. 

"Come,  your  answer?"  he  repeated,  inexorable  to  the 
last. 

Sara's  lips  moved,  but  no  sound  came. 

"What  do  you  say?"  he  asked,  bending  over  her  as 
she  sat. 

Again  her  lips  moved,  and  this  time  he  heard  distinct 
ly,  for  the  words  rang  through  the  room  as  in  bitter  de 
fiance  of  fate.  She  had  consented'. 

"This  seals  our  compact,"  he  exclaimed;  and  before 
she  could  move,  he  had  kissed  her  passionately. 

His  touch,  and  the  horror  of  the  situation,  deprived 
her  of  speech,  and  before  she  could  give  utterance  to  the 
words  which  rushed  to  her  lips,  Hourko  had  left  the 
room  and  set  out  for  Warsaw,  the  dispatch  safe  in  his 
pocket. 

It  was  a  sign  of  the  Tsar's  displeasure,  and  of  the  tri 
umph  of  his  enemies — it  was  his  recall  to  Petersburg. 


320  HERNAN1  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

Armed  with  Hernani's  note  to  Sara — which,  by  the 
way,  he  carefully  opened,  suspecting  pitfalls — though  de 
layed  for  days  and  by  a  dozen  matters,  Popoloff  lost  the 
least  possible  time  in  making  for  the  villa.  The  arrange 
ments  for  the  double  escape  and  flight  complete,  he  wait 
ed  only  until  he  knew  Hourko  to  be  well  out  of  the  way, 
then  he  set  forward.  With  lavish  bribe  of  rubles  he 
satisfied  unscrupulous  and  avaricious  hearts,  and  with 
mock  show  of  halting,  and  many  cautions  from  these  peo 
ple,  he  got  himself  conducted  to  where  Sara,  terror- 
stricken  at  a  sound,  by  reason  of  her  dread  of 'Hourko's 
return,  anxious  and  restless  to  a  degree  scarcely  to  be 
understood,  awaited  with  old  Riva  the  turning  of  events. 

Imagine  Sara's  surprise  and  consternation,  when  this 
man  of  whom  she  thought  so  ill,  arrived  upon  the  scene 
to  add  to  her  complications.  Though  she  had  never 
exchanged  a  word'  with  him,  from  the  first,  her  repug 
nance  for  him  had  been  complete.  Was  this  some  sud 
den  move  of  General  Hourko's?  What  was  about  to 
happen?  What  was  he  there  for?  She  put  this  last  ques 
tion  to  him  politely,  when  she  had  stayed  the  beating  of 
her  heart  and  knit  herself  for  the  occasion. 

"I  shall  tell  you,  madam,  with  much  pleasure  if  you 
will  dismiss  your  woman." 

This  was  a  shot  at  Riva,  whose  presence  he  had  dis 
counted,  but  whose  keen  black  eyes  displeased  him. 

Riva  looked  at  Sara  questioningly,  and  after  some 
slight  hesitation  on  her  part  received  a  sign  to  go.  Mean 
while,  with  his  seemingly  vacant  glances,  Popoloff  took 
in  the  situation,  noting  with  a  curling  lip  the  presence  of 
freshly-cut  flowers,  even  a  case  of  jewels,  collected  on 
a  side  table,  thrust  into  a  corner.  They  were  presents 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  321 

from  Hourko  he  felt  sure.  The  General  had  evidently 
hit  upon  that  plan  of  laying  siege.  Then  he  looked  at 
the  object  of  such  attentions,  meeting  the  gaze  he  chal 
lenged  frankly  enough,  but  thinking  with  characteristic 
duplicity,  how  he  would  have  the  lovely  creature  stripped, 
that  her  soft  body  might  writhe  beneath  the  blows  of 
the  shabby  old  tasseled  cane  he  carried!  "A  Jewess, 
faugh !''  That  was  how  he  would  have  treated  her.  And 
he  had  a  paper  in  his  pocket  to  make  her  respect  and 
obey  his  injunctions.  He  could  have  laughed;  the  more 
as,  reading  Sara's  thoughts,  he  said  to  himself  furious 
ly,  "I  am  ugly,  so  the  minx  has  the  impertinence  to  dis 
like  me." 

The  silence  becoming  embarrassing,  Sara  was  again 
driven  to  address  him. 

"You  have  some  message  or  note  for  me  from — 

"His  Excellency?     No,  madam." 

"Then  may  I  again  ask  you  to  tell  me  the  object  of 
your  visit?" 

Ingenious  in  the  rapidity  with  which  he  decided  to 
amuse  himself,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  obnoxious,  Pop- 
oloft"  answered  promptly  enough — 

"Madam,  my  answer  is  that  you  have  the  best  right 
to  do  so,  since  it  entirely  concerns  yourself.  I  am  here 
with  a  view  to  induce  you  to  consign  yourself  to  my  safe 
keeping,  and  with  that  object  before  me,  I  have  en 
countered  innumerable  obstacles  and  dangers." 

"Can  the  man  be  mad?''  thought  Sara,  "or  in  love 
with  me,  or  what?"  But  being  able  to  decide  nothing, 
she  stammered — 

"Is  his  Excellency,  General  Hourko,  aware  that  you 
have  come  here?" 

"On  the  contrary,  were  his  Excellency,  my  master,  to 
know  that  I  am  here,  my  place  would  be  forfeited  and 
my  person  seized." 

"But  he  will  be  told.    His  servants  are " 


322  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

"In  my  pay.  Ready  to  do  my  bidding.  When  it  is 
done  they  will  pass  the  frontier." 

"You  cannot  mean  that  you — 

"Precisely ;  that  is  what  I  do  mean.  For  the  moment 
the  General  and  I  have  parted  company.  Oh!  when  you 
know  me  better  you  will  see  how  many-sided  I  am.  Ex 
perience  has  given  me  a  large  head  and  heart.  I  have 
learned  to  live  in  any  climate,  hot,  cold,  or  variable; 
therefore,  I  can  expand  or  contract  as  necessity  may  re 
quire.  Let  me  beg  of  you  not  to  judge  me  by  my  fase. 
That,  I  know,  is  all  against  me.  But  what  can  be  more 
deceptive  than  a  face?  True,  in  some  cases  the  face  is 
the  index  to  the  mind,  but  in  few  only.  Neither  is  it 
safe  to  judge  a  man  by  words,  for  to  my  mind,  you  judge 
a  man,  not  by  what  he  says,  but  by  what  he  does  not 
say.  Oh!  it  is  very  mystifying.  I  know  it.  But  acts, 
they  are  what  we  wrant.  You  should  judge  by  acts.  Now 
listen  to  me,  for  my  advice  is  sage.  I  want  you  to  pre 
pare  yourself  for  a  change.  To  have  what  you  may  have 
— though  it  were  well  that  that  should  go  in  a  handker 
chief,  so  to  speak — collected  and  ready  to  take  in  your 
hand,  so  that  you  may  follow  me  from  this  house.  It 
is  an  extraordinary  request  you  will  say.  I  agree  with 
you;  but  you  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  times  are  out 
of  joint,  and'  that  for  one  of  your  persuasion,  this  is  a 
queer  place  to  be  in.  Do  you  comprehend  me,  madam?" 

Sara  was  speechless.  The  last  remark  or  two  she  had 
not  heard.  Her  thoughts  were  confused.  Out  of  it  all 
she  seemed  to  have  but  one  clear  idea — absolute  distrust 
of  the  man  who  addressed  her. 

Popoloff  spoke  again,  and  so  spurred  her  into  speech. 

"Will  you  do  as  I  wish!"  he  demanded,  in  a  voice 
which,  when  he  pleased,  was  pleasant  enough. 

"No!"  answered  Sara  energetically. 

"I  thought  not;  but  what  if  your  husband  wishes  it?" 

"My  husband?" 

"Yes!" 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  323 

"What  can  you  possibly  know  of  him?" 

"A  very  great  deal.  There!  now  your  face  changes. 
Never  judge  by  a  face.  A  moment  ago  you  could  have 
shot  me.  Now,  if  you  could  only  bring  yourself  to  be 
lieve  that  I  can  give  you  news  of  your  husband,  you 
would  kiss  me,  ugly  though  you  think  me.  Well,  I 
have  never  counted  much  upon  women  so  that  kisses 

would  not  move  me .  But,  I  forgot,  time  is  precious, 

therefore  without  a  kiss,  I  will  give  you  this  note.  There 
— now  you  will  understand  that  you  must  do  as  I  tell 
you." 

Sara  took  the  letter  with  tremulously  eager  fingers, 
turning  both  red  and'  white  even  at  the  feel  of  it. 

"You  would  be  alone,  I  see,"  continued  Popoloff,  more 
from  the  desire  to  vaunt  his  own  perspicacity  than  from 
any  wish  to  be  civil,  "I  wonder  what  this  love  is,"  he 
added  to  himself,  as,  deaf  to  his  remarks,  Sara  stepped 
aside  to  read  the  letter.  "One  thing  is  certain;  clogged 
with  such  sentiment,  the  mastership  of  oneself  surrend 
ered,  one  would  sink  rather  than  rise.  Such  silly  weak 
ness  is  not  for  men." 

Flushing  with  a  happiness  bred  in  the  last  few  min 
utes,  wild  with  delight  at  the  thought  that  Hernani  was 
not  lost  to  her,  and  that  she  would  be  saved  from  a  fear 
ful  existence  with  Hourko,  yet  chilling  fast,  as  her  fears 
of  the  man  in  whom  she  was  told  to  confide,  again  got 
the  better  of  her,  Sara  finished  her  reading  of  those  few 
sweet  lines,  and  then  said,  with  as  much  composure  as 
she  could  summon: 

"Whatever  my  personal  feelings,  sir,  this  letter  would 
decide  my  actions.  I  cannot  but  be  filled  with  mis 
givings,  but  you  may  depend  upon  me  to  do  as  you  may 
desire." 

Popoloff  directed  his  gaze  towards  the  door  through 
which  Riva  had  obediently  disappeared. 

"That  is  well,"  he  remarked,  "we  shall  get  along  now; 
but  what  about  that  woman?  When  you  have  gone, 


324  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

there  will  be  a  fine  hue  and  cry  after  you.  She  will  be 
questioned — flogged  perhaps.  Can  you  depend  upon 
her?" 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"Is  she  to  be  trusted?" 

"Absolutely.     She  would  sacrifice  her  life  for  me." 

"That  is  good." 

"But  she  will  be  with  me.     We  shall  escape  together." 

"It  is  impossible.  She  is  old,  and  her  presence  must 
increase  the  difficulties.  She  must  remain  behind  and 
shift  for  herself.  That  is  all  I  can  suggest.  She  has  no 
place  in  my  calculations." 

Sara  looked  at  him  steadily  and  with  scorn. 

"Then  you  must  leave  me  out  of  them  also.  Not  a 
step  do  I  go  without  her.  She  has  befriended  me  all  my 
life,  and  at  her  age,  after  such  service,  would  you  have 
me  desert  her?" 

"It  is  necessary.  You  must  abandon  her  or  give  up 
the  chance  of  escape." 

"Very  well,  then,  I  have  done  with  it.  Riva  goes 
with  me  or  I  don't  stir."  And  as  though  to  emphasize 
the  unalterableness  of  her  decision  Sara  sat  down  in  a 
chair. 

"What  is  the  use  of  making  a  fuss  about  a  paltry 
servant?"  remonstrated  Popoloff. 

To  which  remark  Sara  deigned  no  answer. 

"Very  well,  I  must  see  about  it.  More  money  must 
be  paid  me  for  the  safe  conduct  of  such  cattle,  that  is 
all,"  he  added,  fairly  exasperated. 

No  reply  coming  from  Sara,  he  continued  in  milder 
tones,  as  though  he  considered  himself  ill  used: 

"But,  after  all,  I  was  prepared  for  this,  as  I  am  for 
anything.  If  you  knew  the  difficulties  you  have  to  con 
tend  with,  you  would  agree  that  you  are  foolish.  How 
ever,  I  shall  arrange.  Now,  if  you  will  give  me  a  few 
minutes'  attention  I  will  tell  you  my  plans.  According 
to  my  calculation,  your  husband  should  escape  from  the 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  325 

Citadel  to-morrow  night.  There  should  be  no  difficulty 
—doors  and  gates  will  simply  be  opened.  Once  clear 
of  the  walls,  he  will  be  met  by  my  paid  agent,  who  will 
travel  with  him  over  the  frontier  to  the  little  town  of 
Wieletzka  where  you  are  to  join  him.  To  do  this,  I  pro 
pose  that  you  should  also  start  to-morrow  night,  and  at 
nine  o'clock  have  arranged  for  a  conveyance  to  be  in  at 
tendance.  You  will  simply  place  yourself  in  the  hands 
of  the  woman  here  who  has  waited  upon  you,  and  the 
more  you  hide  your  face,  and  the  less  you  open  your 
lips,  until  you  find  yourself  in  your  husband's  arms,  the 
better." 

Sara  began  to  thank  him — she  could  not  help  it — her 
gratitude  would  be  lifelong — her  prayers . 

Popoloff  cut  her  short  with  a  grim  smile,  and  what 
he  meant  to  be  the  most  cruelly  cynical,  nay,  brutal 
words  he  had  ever  uttered. 

"Heap  your  blessings  on  your  husband  when  you  see 
him  and  are  free." 

Then  he  left  her. 


326  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Affairs  had  shaped  as  Popoloff  had  wished.  In  no 
solitary  instance  had  his  plans  miscarried.  The  risk  he 
had  incurred  and  the  sum  at  stake,  had  guaranteed  the 
working  of  his  wits  to  good  purpose.  Bribery  .had  un 
barred  the  strongest  gates  in  Warsaw — those  of  the 
Citadel — without  a  hitch,  and  Hernani  had  set  out  for 
the  frontier,  safely  escorted,  safely  provided  with  pass 
port  and  instructions  warranted  to  work. 

At  Ivan  Xicholaevitch's  villa,  the  patient  sentries — 
automatic,  and  there  for  military  show  and  stiffest  cere 
monial — watched  over  empty  quarters,  so  far  as  Sara 
was  concerned — she  and  Riva  having  been  got  clear 
away,  by  aid  of  those  in  whom  Ivan  Xicholaevitch  had 
placed  such  faith. 

Popoloff  had  even  received  a  telegram  from  his  agent, 
as  agreed,  stating  that  Hernani  had  crossed  the  frontier 
en  route  for  Wieletzka,  and  on  strength  of  this  and  as 
also  agreed,  he  in  his  turn  had  communicated  with  old 
Nikolay  Brauman,  fixing  an  appointment  in  the  Saxon- 
ski  Sad,  for  that  very  day,  at  nine  of  the  clock.  So  far 
all  went  swimmingly.  Friend  Popoloff  felt  sure  of  his 
money.  He  had  as  good  as  got  it.  With  such  a  sum 
added  to  others  put  away,  he  would  be  above  the  reach 
of  want,  for  life,  luxuriously  placed  even,  to  his  way  of 
thinking.  It  would  be  a  nice  nest  egg,  should  his  busi 
ness  of  secretary,  tchinovnick,  spy,  or  what  it  might  be 
called,  fail  him.  From  that  pleasant  aspect  of  the  pic 
ture,  he  turned,  as  was  his  cruel  nature,  to  gloat  savagely 
over  a  choice  termination  to  this  adventure  scheme  of 
his. 

He  chose  to  think,  with  rare  inventive  devilry,  of  the 
blessings  that  would  be  showered  upon  him  by  the  eager 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  327 

Hernani,  and  by  Sara,  expectant,  eager  too;  both  brim 
ming  over  with  love,  speeding  towards  each  other  with 
whole  skins  and  palpitating  hearts;  believing  their 
troubles  ended  or  nearing  that  felicity;  the  confidence  in 
each  other  rekindling,  and  the  whole  world  before  them 
it  might  seem.  Popoloff  dwelt  upon  these  details  with 
singular  relish,  yet  with  even  keener  appetite  hastened 
on  to  others,  which  when  dovetailed,  should  comprise  a 
finale  of  surpassing  merit,  and  irony  of  grimmest  in 
tensity. 

He  knew  the  little  inn  at  Wieletzka  where  Sara  and 
Hernani  were  to  be  again  united,  and  since  Hernani's 
sagacity  had  prompted  him  to  pay  only  on  clearing  the 
frontier,  this  was  the  denouement,  he,  Popoloff,  had 
deftly  planned. 

He  would  hasten  to  the  Saxonski  Sad,  he  would 
pocket  his  money,  and  that  safe,  by  a  judicious  and'  pre 
arranged  appeal  to  Austrian  officialdom,*  he  would 
cause  Hernani  and  Sara  to  be  re-arrested,  and  flung  into 
some  vile  hole  where  they  could  await  his  pleasure  and 
further  developments.  By  such  an  arrangement,  his 
keen  nose  scented  other  Jewish  moneys,  perhaps  rubles 
from  Hourko,  who  might  swallow  some  cunningly 
thought-out  concoction,  and  prove  grateful  into  the  bar 
gain. 

Such  was  PopolofFs  masterpiece  of  treachery,  war 
ranted  to  be  steel-jointed  and  to  fail  in  no  way. 

But  Popoloff  had  forgotten  that  a  lie  cannot  last  in  a 
race  with  truth,  but  must  be  outstripped,  fail,  and  in  its 
hideousness,  be  at  length  exposed  to  public  gaze  ablaze 
with  wrath. 

He  had  forgotten  that  if  his  plans  were  to  triumph,  to 
the  undoing  of  others,  for  him  too  there  must  come  a 
reckoning  day. 

However,  with  a  light  heart  and  an  itching  palm,  he 


'The  Austrian  officials  aided  the  Russians  throughout  the  revolt. 


328  HEKNANI  THE  JEW. 

finished  his  business  for  the  night,  tidied  official  papers 
committed  to  his  charge,  closed  his  private  bureau  with 
cunning  look  and  sharp  eye,  and  set  out  with  quick  step 
and  eager  expectancy  for  the  gardens. 

At  the  hour  he  had  chosen,  they  were  deserted,  as  he 
had  calculated;  plunged  also  in  deepest  gloom,  and 
moisture  of  copious  spring  rains  which  had  left  the  paths 
slimy  and  unpleasant  to  the  foot. 

Arrived  upon  the  spot,  and  seeing  no  one — nothing 
but  straight  stems  of  trees  and  shadowy  stretching  of 
dim  alleys,  he  paced  to  and  fro.  The  lights  of  an  hotel, 
and  of  a  palace,  once  royal  and  Polish,  shone  pallidly. 

He  began  to  grow  restless — to  stamp  irritably — to 
wonder  and  to  talk  to  himself  angrily.  Patience,  friend 
Popoloff.  The  virtue  of  it  is  at  all  times  great,  and 
could  you  but  see  ahead,  you  would  be  glad  of  a  respite, 
of  Time,  and  all  that  Time  confers. 

At  length  a  step  was  heard  by  him,  a  form  seen  to 
approach,  seen  also  by  three  other  forms  hard  by,  intent 
on  watching,  befriended  also  by  the  darkness  and  the 
many  tree  trunks. 

Popoloff  coughed;  which  sign  was  answered,  and  the 
two  dark  figures  came  to  a  halt. 

"Have  you  the  money?"  he  inquired. 

"It  is  here,  as  promised,"  was  the  answer,  with  addi 
tional  suggestion  to  "count  it  at  a  cafe,"  where  they  can 
be  quiet. 

"It  is  unnecessary,"  replied  Popoloff,  "I  can  trust  you. 
Have  you  anything  further  to  say?" 

"Nothing." 

"Then  I  will  wish  you  good-night." 

The  money  safe  within  his  grasp,  consigned  to  his 
tchinovnik's  portfolio  of  especial  safety,  once  again  he 
stepped  out  at  quickest  pace,  with  even  his  old  heart 
beating  fast  in  wicked  delight.  A  few  steps  only  did  he 
take,  or  was  suffered  to  take  it  would  be  well  to  sav. 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  329 

Then,  no  further  could  he  go.  Two  men  blocked  the 
narrow  path,  one  also  closed  on  him  in  rear. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  exclaimed. 

"You,"  answered  one. 

"Say  your  prayers,  old  man,"  mocked  another.  "Aye, 
aye,  pray  if  you  can  before  you  die  the  death  of  a  traitor." 

Popoloff  was  no  coward.  He  would  have  fought  or 
shown  firm  front,  could'  he  but  have  done  so.  But,  alas, 
where  now  was  Time  for  him?  At  last  it  was  no  more, 
but  had  deserted  him  for  ever. 

The  third  man,  at  his  back,  was  not  seen  by  him,  and 
there  lay  the  danger,  for  without  fresh  chance  of  speech, 
and  with  lightning  stroke,  a  blow  from  keenest  steel  was 
dealt  him  between  the  shoulders;  rough  hands 
smothered  his  cries.  What  mercy  had  he  ever  shown, 
and  what  mercy  did  he  now  deserve? 

His  pockets  rifled,  bathed  in  blood,  his  foes  beside 
him,  till  his  evil  heart  ceased  beating,  that  was  his  end, 
and  that  end  the  one  he  most  merited. 


33°  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  weather  was  magnificent,  the  sun  shone  in  cloud 
less  splendor,  warming,  cheering,  and  beautifying  the 
charming  scenery  which  skirted  the  town  of  Wieletzka, 
where  stood  the  Inn  at  which  Popoloff  had  decided  that 
Hernani  and  Sara  should  meet.  He  had'  selected  the 
spot  because  it  was,  to  his  mind,  the  sort  of  place  at 
which  anything  might  be  done  without  attracting  great 
notice.  It  was  true  that  the  spring  had  come,  that  the 
varied  tinting  of  the  trees  was  admirable,  that  the  lake 
and  the  woods  invited  picnic  parties,  and  that  the  vil 
lagers  for  miles  round  availed  themselves  of  the  charms 
of  the  district  and  the  cheap  comforts  of  the  Inn,  and 
trooped'  there  with  their  women,  bent  upon  eating,  drink 
ing  and  love-making;  all  these  facts  scarce  counted,  since 
the  peasants  were  calculated  to  sip  their  liquor  with 
sleepy-eyed  indifference,  while  anything  short  of  murder 
was  being  committed. 

So  there  stood  the  little  white-walled  Inn,  begirt  by  its 
pretty  garden  and  bright  green  palings,  its  whole  front 
age  a  bower  of  shade,  thanks  to  a  number  of  chestnut 
trees,  the  tops  of  which  had  been  pruned  to  pancake-like 
flatness,  to  give  light  and  a  view  to  the  upper  windows. 

In  these  pink  chestnut  trees,  whole  colonies  of  birds 
chirped,  twittered,  and  fought,  while  beneath  them 
strong  wooden  tables,  painted  green  like  the  palings, 
were  grouped  conveniently. 

Coarse  white  cloths  were  spread  upon  these  tables, 
which  were  further  garnished  by  cheap  blue  crockery, 
black-handled  knives  and  forks,  and  cruet  stands,  con 
taining  oil,  vinegar,  and  French  mustard;  the  salt,  with 
a  knife  to  help  it,  being  set  in  a  separate  bowl.  All  these 
tables  were  filled  to  overflowing,  and  from  each  and  all  of 


HERNANI  THE  JEW.  331 

them  came  peals  of  laughter,  coarse  jokes,  and  the  occa 
sional  fumes  of  bad  tobacco. 

A  solitary  waiter,  clad  in  greasy  black,  ample  shirt 
front  and  low  cut  turned  down  collar,  perspired  freely, 
and  with  unctuous  good  nature  struggled  to  attend  to 
every  one  at  once. 

Watch  that  brown-skinned,  plump-fingered  woman, 
lighting  a  cigar  for  that  jolly,  fat,  peasant  fellow  who  is 
her  lover,  and  then  travel  with  the  blue  smoke  as  it 
leaves  his  lips,  through  the  tender  green  of  the  sun- 
kissed  chestnut  leaves,  slowly  and  upward,  until  it  curls 
into  a  little  room,  before  the  open  window  of  which 
stretched  wood  and  water  in  perfection. 

The  occupants  of  that  room,  two  in  number,  have 
interest  of  their  own,  being  Kasimir  Hernani  and  Sara. 

Titus  PopolofPs  emissaries,  weary  of  waiting  for  in 
structions,  and  thinking  that  none  could  be  forthcoming, 
had  taken  the  road  to  Warsaw.  Alone  and  together,  the 
hearts  of  husband  and  wife  had  overflowed.  In  impas 
sioned  eloquence  Hernani  had  told'  of  his  first  doubts  and 
fears,  of  the  perpetual  strengthening  of  them,  and  had 
broken  down  and  sobbed  like  a  child  in  an  attempt  to 
describe  what  he  had  suffered;  after  which,  a  few  words 
from  Sara  had  been  enough  to  cjear  the  way,  to  the  lock 
ing  of  arms  and  the  meeting  of  warm  lips. 

"Dearie,  dearie,  then  you  do  love  me?"  she  had 
gasped. 

"Yes." 

"For  myself,  and  even  though  I  have  brought  you  no 
children?" 

"For  yourself,  and  as  I  shall  never  love  again.  But 
you — you — 

"I — I  love  you  like  this,"  and  with  trembling  lips,  as 
though  the  horror  of  it  all  still  made  her  quake,  she 
spoke  of  Hourko  and  the  suffering  he  had  put  her  to  at 
the  villa. 

"So  then — in  your  turn,  you  love  me — mind,  we  shall 


332  HERNANI  THE  JEW. 

be  poor — very — comparatively,  for  they  will  take  care  to 
confiscate  all  they  can  lay  hands  on." 

"I — love  you — and  we  shall  be  poor — listen,"  and  in  a 
torrent  of  burning  words,  unable  to  restrain  herself,  the 
blood  in  her  face,  determined  to  lay  bare  her  whole  heart, 
she  told  him  how  that  for  him,  she  would  have  yielded 
even  herself;  her  honor  being  nothing  when  weighed 
against  his  life. 

"God  of  my  fathers!  you  would  have  done  that  for 
me!"  he  exclaimed. 

And  she  nodded,  adding,  moments  after,  when  she 
could  gain  her  voice — 

"So  that  now  we  shall  be  one — always — and  never  part 
while  life  lasts?" 

"Never,"  he  answered  solemnly,  taking  her  in  his 
strong  arms,  "the  Holy  One  will  have  us  in  His  charge, 
and  it  will  be  well  with  us." 

And  beneath  them,  through  the  green  of  the  chestnut 
leaves,  the  smoke  still  ascended,  the  laughter  rang  out, 
and  the  birds  talked  to  each  other,  while  into  their 
hearts  stole  the  blessed  thought  that  for  them  there  was 
still  hope,  for  there  was  love. 


THE  END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FAC  LITY 


A     000076617     0 


